Chasing Butterflies
by lollipops suck
Summary: Days after a girl with a sinister power comes to Camp, a shocking death turns the world upside down and threatens the Gods' power. Trapped in a desperate race against time, the newcomer has find the killer... before it's too late. A whodunnit with clues.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I am a dirt poor 16 yr old girl who works for minimum wage at McDonalds… do I sound like the kind of person to own the rights to a immensely successful book series? (I don't, by the way. In case you were going to argue the 'eccentric rich person' case :D.)**

_**My first switch to a different fandom – and at a non-oneshot story… this is a bit of a double-whammy of newness isn't it? Anyway my point is: Please review, and although I don't really care if you play nice… if you do decide to flame, please, for the love of gods, do it eloquently. **_

_**This story is predominately based around an OC. Not **__**only**__** around an OC, but predominantly… Anyways just get over it :P**_

_**Also, as it this is a bit of a whodunit kind of mystery, and as the story progresses I'd love to hear your guesses on who the killer is :D To help you I will be scattering in a few clues that will be underlined like **__**this**__**. If you're really hardcore you can write them down as they appear, because they will help you figure out who the killer is. I maaay decide to throw in a few false clues so that you have to work and figure out which ones are true and which are false, if I do decide to do that I will let you know :D**_

**That was… long. Sorry about that. Anyway, onto what you're here for!**

Chasing Butterflies

"You do realise what you've done, don't you?"

The wizened woman sat back in her chair, a few stray curls twisting at her temples. Her long fingers clicked on the wooden arm pointedly, as she stared down the cloaked figure kneeling at the base of the chair. Dark eyes met darker for a moment, before the kneeling one finally shied away – turning his gaze to a flickering candle in the corner.

"I… I stand by my decision."

"Do you now? How very… attached of you. Though I suppose you already realise what this means – you have never been the type to run into stupidly thought out choices."

There was a slight giggle in the corner from a girl perched on a low stool, pulling at a loose strand in her wine coloured dress. Her nails cast thin claws onto the wall as she yanked at the strand; smiling as the hem slowly uncoiled and spilt guts of thread onto the floor. "We already know the answer dearies. After all, nothing escapes us… not even him!"

An older woman curled up next to the girl smiled. The lines around her mouth bent as her eyes glittered. "Naughty boy, breaking our rules. We'll have to punish you, won't we?" Her blue eyes flicked to the oldest one on the chair for reassurance.

"We all know that I am out of your jurisdiction, sisters." The cloaked figure smiled as he spoke. Slowly and defiantly, he raised his eyes to meet all of theirs, his mouth twisting upwards. "After all, I am the eldest of the four of us."

The three women stiffened. "You will wish that you hadn't crossed us…" The oldest sister murmured, leaning forward and casting her stretched shadow onto the wall. "You are not invincible, as much as you consider yourself to be. And neither is she."

The man slowly stood, lifting himself to his full height. "If you touch her, sisters… You will die."

The oldest woman smiled, reaching a gnarled hand into her pocket and drawing out a silver pair of scissors. Opening them with a practiced flick of the wrist, she sliced at the air in front of her with a deadly _hiss. _"But brother… we don't have to touch her, do we?" The three sisters erupted into shrill laughter, their faces twisting like carnival clowns'.

The cloaked man said nothing. Shaking his hand slightly he turned, his cloak whispering against the cold stone. "Is that all you wished to say?"

The middle sister grinned. "Those are our last words to you, brother."

Not bothering to respond, the brother shrugged his shoulders and disappeared, off to see his next client. Business _does_ pick up during summer, after all.

The moment he was gone, the youngest sister sighed, cradling her head in her hands. "She will not be pleased…" She moaned, pulling at her blonde hair in despair.

"He will not listen to reason, sisters. He is too far gone… She will understand that we are not able to sway him when he is in such a state as this. And over a child, no less! Bah. I miss the days when our brother was more… himself." The oldest sister melted in her chair, closing her deep black eyes.

"But you are right, Clotho. She will certainly not be pleased."

**I realise it's only a short prologue but… Review, Rinse* and Repeat?**

***By the way if you actually do dunk your computer underwater just cause I said you should… I take no responsibility for your actions. *coughcough* baaa. Joking, I love you~~~ Long as you review, that is. Otherwise, it's more of a lukewarm like.**


	2. Accidents

**Disclaimer: If I owned Percy Jackson, trust me. You'd know. I own my OC and my plot but that's it :P**

**Ok, just wanna give a quick warning here XD I have a bit of a potty mouth. I'm keeping it pretty under control in this story, but if you can't deal with the occasional swearword then now's probably to time to click that little blue back button. Sorry about that but if you really love me, you WON'T let me go… It's rated T for a reason :)**

**Thank you so much for your lovely reviews :3 really made my day ~  
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Chasing Butterflies

Sometimes, it appears to Ciara that life is purely accidental.

It was a cool afternoon in New York, the kind of breezy day which bites at bare skin and teases hair into candyfloss. Dressed in ten shades of black, Ciara slowly made her way down the school corridor. Yawning widely, she grudgingly made her way back to some mindless class that was another excuse to sleep.

It was only for her things, of course. The pencil that the teacher had confiscated, the hair tie that she'd dropped on the floor. Her threadbare bag bumped against her hip with every second step, although she couldn't exactly fathom _why _there was a spring in her step in the first place. Today was probably one of the worst so far this week. Even if it was only Monday.

The principal's words fluttered around her head like angry sparrows and Ciara giggled loudly. The laugh was entirely inappropriate, especially since the only sound in the lonely corridor was the muffled thumps of her sneakers against the linoleum. The brain-dead hallways were almost designed to amplify every sound and channel it into classrooms. But the snicker was completely and totally worth the awkward echoing all the same.

"Sir_, it was only an accident –"_

"_The boy is in _hospital, _Miss Morris."_

"_That only proves my previous statement that it was an accident sir. I was testing a scientific theory, and he volunteered to be my test subject."_

"_And what theory was that, Miss Morris?"_

"_That hydrochloric acid can be sprayed out of an aerosol can, sir."_

"_What? Are you mentally deficient, Miss Morris?"_

"_No sir. If I was mentally deficient, I would have missed."_

It was a sad day when science is overridden by an idiotic principal. Tossing the offending can in between her two hands, Ciara smirked. Because John Carter (dickhead extraordinaire) _had _volunteered to help test out her theory the very moment that he poured a test tube of bright blue copper sulfate over her head, screaming something along the lines of "ARE YOU FEELING A LITTLE BLUE?"

It had been pure (accidental) instinct for her to whip out the can and spray it into his eyes. Honestly, it had been.

Though of course, that didn't seem to matter very much to her principal. Pity. She would have liked to finish her high school education at a number of schools that she could count on one hand…

Ciara was just around the corner from the classroom when there was an earsplitting _SHRIEK!_ Moments later the wooden and glass door with 'English' neatly printed across the glass was ripped from its hinges and sent smashing into a cluster of lockers a hair's breadth from her. It was followed by a hurtling chunk of wall, and an unfortunate desk. Diving to the side to avoid being sliced to ribbons by the shattered glass, Ciara hit the floor hard, stunned.

English. So that was what the mindless class was…

Lying on the floor for a few moments, Ciara tried to process what had just happened. Shriek. Flying door. Breaking class. Mildly exciting English lesson. Three people running _into _the classroom, swords in hand…? One of them stopped, staring at her. Feeling stupidly sluggish Ciara pulled herself to her feet, dragging her eyes to meet the boy's dark ones.

"Just stay out of the classroom, and run. You'll forget this all in a moment anyway, since you're mortal." He said matter of factly, before following his two companions into the classroom. Blinking, Ciara took two shaky steps forward before regaining her confidence and running to the now significantly wider doorway. An announcement blared out the school's loud speakers, delivered in the principal's shaky voice. "The school is entering an emergency situation. All students to the quad. Calmly and quietly make your way to the quad, students –"

Technically, she has already been released from this hellish institution, minutes before. Technically, "released" was the wrong word. But technically, Ciara doesn't actually care about technical terms. Released was the lovely, sugar coated word that she was sticking with. Long story short, she wasn't a student anymore. So, the announcement didn't exactly apply to her, did it?

Peering into the classroom, Ciara almost felt her jaw hit the floor. There, there was… No. Freaking. Way.

Impossible.

There was… some sort of _monster _in the classroom. In the corner a girl Ciara vaguely recognized was shivering in terror, as the three people she'd seen moments before brandished their swords at the thing, getting into some sort of battle position to protect the girl. The light glittered on their blades, except for one sword that seemed to simply swallow the feeble sunlight filtering through the cracked window. The breath froze in Ciara's throat as she watched, transfixed.

"HALFBLOODS! I WILL TEAR THE FLESH FROM YOUR BONES!" The monster screamed, its forked tongue flicking out of its mouth. Snarling viciously, it licked its scaled cheek in anticipation. Its eyes were a deep, bloody red, and instantly Ciara's knees felt like Jell-o. Ciara wasn't even sure what she was seeing – it looked like a snake, but with legs. And fur… were those matted yellow things wings? She didn't particularly want to stick around and find out – but it was like a slow motion car accident, she just couldn't look away.

The monster lunged forward, snapping at the shoulder of the boy who'd stopped to warn her moments before. His moments were so fast they almost blurred, but before Ciara could let out her held breath he was under the beast, slicing at it with his sword at the other two ducked and weaved around the monster like deadly dancers.

Suddenly her feet were propelling her forward as Ciara rushed forward, acid can in hand, every nerve in her body screaming at her to stop. But accidental bravery never gives up that easily.

Adrenalin pumping through her veins Ciara skidded forward, the rubber on her shoes screeching against the floor. In a heart stopping moment the monster turned on its heels, eying her with a mix of distaste and shock before roaring "WHAT IS THI-"

Ciara wasn't as slow.

Pressing her finger on the partially melted cap, a shot of concentrated acid exploded out, hitting the monster square in the eyes and mouth. Shrieking in agony the beast flailed blindly, sending Ciara into the wall with a massive claw swipe. Groaning, Ciara's eyelids fluttered in vain before she succumbed to the burning pain flaring throughout her body. Taking one final, ragged breath, Ciara blacked out.

Life is a series of accidents.

Some are more serious than others.

xxxxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxxxx

"What should we do with her Percy?"

"I'm… not sure. She saw the monster, and then attacked it… I'm not even sure if she's mortal. No ordinary human would act like that. Hold on Nico, she's coming around…"

_Pain. Oh god, everywhere huurts_. Slowly Ciara cracked one eye open, immediately wishing that she hadn't. Bright white light flooded her skull, as she groaned loudly. Sucking in a breath, Ciara was grateful to confirm that a. She was indeed alive and b. Her ribs appeared to be intact. Holding her breath in for three of the longest seconds in existence, Ciara tried to open her eyes again, this time marginally more successful.

Three curious faces were peering into her own and as Ciara's vision focussed, she blinked and stared at them back, trying to determine if there were actually three people there, and not just one. No one seemed willing to say anything until finally the dark eyed boy from before sighed. "I told you to stay out of the classroom."

Ciara's eye twitched.

"I have a very strong sense of curiosity."

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"Satisfaction brought him back." The slurred comebacks were instinctual, as Ciara frowned, trying to pinpoint the jackhammer banging in her head.

There was silence for a moment before a stern looking girl rolled her eyes. "Bickering isn't going to get us anywhere. Who are you?"

Ciara leaned back against the wall, lifting a hand to gingerly touch the back of her head. Her fingers came back dry, but Ciara wasn't entirely convinced. Rubbing her eyes, Ciara gazed around the room while the blonde girl's question began to register in her mind. The room had been levelled. Desks and chairs had been reduced to splinters, and the originally white floor was coated in thick plaster dust. Hmmm. The faculty wasn't going to be pleased…

"I'm still trying to figure that one out… But my name is Ciara. If that's what you're after…" Ciara mumbled, her eyes finally resting on the cowering girl in the corner. Her freckled face was familiar. Lifting a hand to her aching nose, Ciara attempted to get her swirling thoughts in order. "Jenny… right? Who the Hell are these people?" The girl stared at her dumbfounded for a moment, her brown hair curtaining her eyes.

"_We_ are here to collect Jenny. Our names are of no concern to you."

Ciara's eyes turned back to the stern girl. _Stop talking… My head hurts…_ Ciara sat up, trying to ignore her body's protests. After a few agonising moments, she was finally on her feet again. Was it her, or was she spending an unusual amount of the last few minutes sprawled on her ass? "Aren't you a little young to be pedos?" She said, eyeing them distrustfully.

The three looked as if they'd been slapped, as the other, green eyed boy spoke slowly.

"…What?"

Jenny blinked, looking more bewildered than a deer in headlights. "Uhhh… what was that monster thing?"

Jenny had always been a quiet girl, as far as Ciara had noticed. She spent most of English asleep after all – and Jenny had never been the one to wake her up. Logically she couldn't be _that_ loud. Mostly, Ciara regarded Jenny with a slightly pitying apathy. The girl had ADHD _and _dyslexia. Life must be pretty tough. It probably didn't help her self esteem either, considering that Jenny was rock bottom of the class and Ciara was near the top, even though Ciara literally did nothing, and just showed up for the occasional test.

"It was a chimera. It was drawn to you, because you're… special, Jenny. See, you have dyslexia and ADHD for a reason. Your ADHD is your fighting reflexes, and would keep you alive in battle. And you appear to have dyslexia because your mind is actually hardwired for Ancient Greek."

Now it was Ciara's turn to blink stupidly.

"Jenny, what Annabeth is trying to say is… you're a demigod. A child of one of the Greek Gods. We've come because your godly parent has claimed you." The green eyed boy explained. Although Ciara was more lost than ever before once his mouth closed.

Jenny's eyes widened in shock, as her jaw swung loose. "I'm… a demigod?"

"Yes. And you have to come with us to Camp Halfblood, before more monsters arrive." Annabeth said, taking a few careful steps across the floor to reach Jenny and pull her to her feet. Pushing her hair out of her hazel eyes, Jenny regarded Ciara nervously as her knees knocked slightly. Oh come on. That's uncalled for.

Lifting her chin Ciara appraised Jenny coolly with a mint green stare. Jenny was the first to break contact, as Ciara's fingers tapped against one arm thoughtfully. "Is Ciara coming…?" Jenny mumbled, everything in her voice and body language hoping that all signs pointed to _NO_. Even as Ciara watched, Jenny's shoulders curled into her stomach, making the short girl resemble a human turtle. Annabeth bit her lip and looked to the two boys for guidance. "Percy?"

"We're… we're not sure Jenny." The green eyed boy answered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Ciara shoved her hands into her pockets angrily, pulling out a hair tie and stretching it between her fingers with a muted _snap._ "Well, you can't just leave me here." Ciara sighed, kicking at a chair leg aggressively.

The dark eyed boy rolled his eyes. "Yes we can."

Ciara's eyes narrowed as she pointedly flipped the acid can into her other hand. "I'm a bit sick of this 'mortal' and 'demigod' trash talk, you pompous git." She spat, the strong Irish lilt in her accent rising. Taking a menacing step forward, she stared down at the boy, who she had at least four good inches on. In fact, she had at the very least two good inches on everyone in the room, except for the slightly taller Percy.

Percy sighed, stepping forward between the two of them. "Look, it wouldn't hurt to take her to camp. So let's just go before someone else shows up, alright?" Just as Percy finished, there was a rumble of feet against the hallway, and it sounded like a _lot _of people. Jenny froze, just as Ciara grabbed her and Annabeth's arms.

"C'mon, I know the fastest way."

Half pulling, half dragging the two girls to the window, Ciara let go of them temporarily to clamber up onto the fractured sill. Pushing an inky strand of hair from her eyes, she turned to them and grinned. "See you on the other side."

The dark eyed boy exhaled sharply, reaching forward to grab her tanned arm in a tight vice. "Are you fucking _nuts_-"

Giving the dear old demigods a two fingered salute, Ciara pushed herself off, getting a little more than she bargained for when the dark eyed boy was pulled out with her. Opening her mouth for what started as a laugh but turned into a bloodcurdling scream, Ciara barely had a chance to register her surprise before the two of them crashed into a closed dumpster. Cursing colourfully, the two of them bounced off onto the pavement before grazing to a halt, breath blown out them.

The boy was the first to stand, rolling his shoulders and shooting her a filthy look. "What the fuck was that?" He spat, turning on Ciara as she crawled onto her knees. Gently fingering an angry red graze on her forearm, she held out her other hand. Grimacing at the bloody stains that she'd left on the pavement, Ciara was slightly surprised when the boy obliged and pulled her up with ease. "The fastest way… "She muttered. The boy was stunned to silence. Ciara sighed, and picked at the corner of her shirt.

At that moment, Percy and Annabeth burst out of the school's front door with Jenny in tow. "Nico what were you thinking?" Percy stumbled over the words, green eyes wide with shock. "That… that was the third floor!" Instantly Nico broke out into a futile attempt to defend himself, before Annabeth raised her hand to silence him. "Look, whatever… The police are on their way here, they think it was some kind of bomb. We have got to get out of here. Now."

Instantly, the four of them turned to Ciara. Jenny's hazel eyes flicked between Ciara and the street, as a few busy people shoved past, sending the petite girl tottering. "This is the deciding moment, Ciara. If you come with us now, there's no turning back." Ciara sucked in a breath, hooking a thumb into her skinny jeans. Pretending to give their offer a moment's thought. "I choose the red pill." Ciara said, her mouth curling into a crooked smile.

Percy's brow furrowed as the street sounds swirled around them. A police car sign wailed in the distance, followed by a few expletive bleeps from angry drivers. Ciara rolled her eyes and stuck her hands into her pockets, her thin chest ballooning up with a disapproving sigh. The lack of recognised references these days. "Yes, I'm coming. So what's your ride? Pegasuses or something?"

At that moment a van swung wildly around the corner, tyres burning a mark into the chipped road. The only discernible word on its white side was "Strawberries." Instantly Nico shrugged his oversized aviator's jacket back into place and headed towards it. Pulling the slide door open with a flick of the wrist, he gave Ciara a final glare. Silently Percy and Annabeth followed, ushering Jenny in behind them. Annabeth put a hand on the door to close it, and her grey eyes met Ciaras' as one side of her mouth twitched wryly. "It's actually pegasi."

As she started to close the door Ciara rushed forward and shoved herself roughly through the gap. Squeezing herself between Nico and Jenny, she returned Annabeth's smile with a smirk. "I'll take your word for it. And you guys do of course realise that writing 'free candy' on the side of your van would be more effective than 'strawberries' right?"

"We aren't pedos." Nico said flatly, staring out the window with a look that was ready to melt through the glass. Slowly but deliberately, he pulled himself away from Ciara until he was crushed against the fake leather door. Ciara obliged and inched closer to Jenny. Muttering dark things under her breath, she turned herself away from the sullen jerk. Unfortunately, poor Jenny seemed a tiny bit _absolutely pant-wettingly terrified_ by this sudden close contact. Ciara cleared her throat.

"Yeah well, guilty until proven innocent."


	3. I spy

**Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson, or any other super successful book series. WHY DID YOU HAVE TO REMIND ME DX All I own is my OC and plot.  
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**Please review, it is actually so inspiring to write to open up my email and see all those story alerts/favourites/reviews. So y'know, click the blue link at the bottom when you're done reading, and don't play dumb as to which one, mkay?  
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Chasing Butterflies

They had been driving (although a better phrase would be swerving and ducking through traffic wildly) for all of five minutes before Ciara felt the desperate urge to break the tense silence. She _was_ secretly quite a social creature after all. Tapping her nails on her ripped jeans, Ciara peeled a loose piece of skin off her lip with her teeth, slowly licking off the salty drop of blood.

Swivelling in her seat, Ciara used her impressive height to peer over into the driver's chair. Perhaps these three were simply Pedo's Little Helpers, innocent and unfortunate molested teens. Bringing up her feet onto the seat to spring herself upwards for a better view, Ciara peeked to catch a glimpse of the driver's face… only to be met by several pairs of sharp blue eyes.

Mouth widening like a fish in shock, Ciara desperately searched for something to say. The driver sighed, shaking his head slightly. Slowly Percy stood up, and gently pushed Ciara back into her seat, mouthing something like "seatbelts." The driver merely gripped the wheel tighter and kept the majority of his eyes fixed on the road. He didn't say a word but his message was clear – _Your reaction is nothing new._

Slightly tongue tied, Ciara smiled nervously before sinking back into the back seat. "Your driver…" Percy, Nico and Annabeth's eyes flicked to her, full of silent warning.

Ciara swallowed and laughed dryly. "Must be _amazing _at I Spy." Everyone was silent for a moment before Percy's mouth twitched. In the rear view mirror, Ciara caught the driver's silent smile. Annabeth stared at Ciara incredulously for a moment, before drifting away into some thought. "Put your seat belt on." The driver said, his hoarse voice almost rusted from lack of use. Percy subtly pulled his across and clicked his into place, but Ciara only smiled.

Jenny – who had been holding in her breath to avoid touching Ciara's side as much as possible – suddenly exhaled a whoosh of air that was the loudest sound Ciara had ever heard the girl make. "Where are we going again?" The tension in the car seemed to unwind, as Percy seized on the question gratefully.

"We're going to Camp Halfblood. It's kind of like a camp –" Ciara snickered, earning a glare from Percy before he continued. "A camp, for demigods. There you'll learn to protect yourself from monsters, and how to be a hero." Jenny stared at him, dumbfounded. "M-me? A hero?"

Ciara stared past Jenny out of the window, watching New York pass by in a blur. They were almost out of the city now, the monotone building were being broken up by flashes of green. Ciara smiled quietly to herself, thinking of home.

It had been such a long time since she's been there. America was survivable of course, but she missed the green. Let alone the warm, familiar accents that sounded so much richer than the American one. It was just so… nostalgic. And of course she missed St. Paddy's Day as well… but since she left when she was 15 – an impossibly long year ago – that memory is _strictly_ on the down low.

Sighing slightly, she leaned back into the chair and closed her eyes for a moment. "Ciara?" Her mouth twitched as Ciara played with the end of her ponytail. "Yeah?" She turned her head slightly, meeting Nico's rather intense gaze.

"Your hands."

"What about them."

"The skin… it doesn't feel normal."

Ciara swallowed, looking down at her hands. The long fingers ending in short crescent nails did their very best to stare back, but she wasn't the van's driver, and her pale skin didn't have the same eyeful impression. _It would be bad if it felt normal Nico. Trust me._

"Well I didn't moisturize this morning cause I forgot. Sorry your majesty."

"That's not what I meant. They felt like… soft leather, or smooth plastic." There was a soft hiss as Annabeth drew a dagger from her hip. Nico and Percy followed suit, and suddenly Ciara felt incredibly claustrophobic as the back of the van began to resemble a reversed porcupine. "What are you?" Nico growled; his black sword disturbingly close to her neck. A muscle in Ciara's throat ticked nervously.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Don't play games with us. Are you a monster?"

"Literally? No! Or course not. Though y'know… school thinks differently. My hands are…"

Ciara swallowed, twiddling her fingers in her lap nervously. "I'm wearing gloves." Confusion flitted across the three sword bearing demigods' faces as Ciara melted back into the seat, attempting to gain a few precious centimetres between her and Nico's frightening sword. "What do you mean you're wearing gloves?" Nico growled.

Jenny shook her head softly. "But we can see your hands."

Ciara closed her eyes and shook her head slightly, barely breathing to try and avoid the unbelievably cold black blade against her throat. _Green. Blue. Purple. Red._ The four demigods gasped, and instantly the swords dropped away back to their owners' sides. Exhaling sharply, Ciara gulped in a shaky breath gratefully. Following their gazes, Ciara stared down at her hands. They were now encased in long, obnoxiously red gloves which almost reached her elbows. Nico licked his lips, perplexed.

"How did they change colour like that?"

_Transparent. _The bright colour faded, until her gloves were completely invisible again. Ciara shivered, dropping her hands into her lap. "They…" Ciara trailed off, unsure of what to say. The four demigods' eyes were fixed on her, urging her to go on. Ciara's eyes flicked between them nervously, sliding her thumbs over one another. "Because sometimes I need them to."

This of course only agitated more questions. But Ciara was silent and uncharacteristically tight lipped until finally, after an aeon of twisted trees and eternal fields the van turned into a gaping gate and pulled to a gravelly halt. Percy, Annabeth and Nico exchanged a meaningful look. "We're through the barrier."

"That settles it then."

"Chiron will explain this," Annabeth finished, the uncertainty in her voice trembling like a violin string.

Pulling open the door slowly Nico stepped out first, followed closely by Percy. The two of them then each took one of Ciara's forearms, pulling her down to the driveway. Nico's grip was tight enough to turn her pale skin bloodless. Ciara growled, shooting the dark eyed boy a filthy look. At least Percy hadn't yanked so hard. But what did they think she was going to do? Make a run for it? They were in the middle of nowhere… where would she go?

A large house perched a stone's throw away, and with Percy and Nico on either side of her Ciara was marched towards it. Dimly she could hear Nico muttering to himself next to her left ear. "This is why I don't stay up here… The _one_ _fucking_ _time_ I help with a retrieval…" Zoning out, she turned to Percy, trying to keep the fear from her eyes.

"Where are we going?" Her voice shook like a leaf, tiny and frail in the still campground. Ciara could hear the thud of Jenny and Annabeth's steps behind her, but she kept her eyes straight ahead, trying to not imagine what lay in wait for her inside thehouse. "The Big House," Annabeth answered, as Ciara blinked, trying to keep her breathing even. "Chiron needs to meet Jenny and give her a timetable." Annabeth finished, though Ciara could feel the girl's grey eyes boring into her back, acutely aware of how she hadn't been mentioned. Now it was Ciara's turn to mimic a turtle.

Seconds stretched by until finally they were standing on the peeling porch. Ciara's eyes were glued to the painted wood, intently focussed on her black chucks. Her right shoelace was too long and the black cord was a magnet to slightly wet grass. A few blades had glued themselves to the trailing lace and her soles… Ciara smiled a tiny smile. Green green green. Calm, green thoughts. "Who are these girls?" A voice interrupted.

Ciara dragged her eyes upwards, meeting the kind eyes of a wheelchair bound man. She was almost tempted to relax slightly. Until, of course she remembered that today, everything wasn't what it seemed. After all, that feathery furry snake winged thing had been her English teacher once. "Take a seat."

The man gestured to the porch table, which had three empty chairs. Placing a hesitant hand on the back of a chair Ciara slid into a seat, desperately trying to quell her pessimistic thoughts. Across from her was a rather padded man dressed in a violently bright Hawaiian shirt with a diet coke cradled in one hand. Personally, Ciara thought that it was a bit late for the soft drink to work its dietary wonders.

As Jenny took a seat next to her, the larger man rested his drink on the table and leaned forward, his sun-glassed eyes focussed intently on Ciara. "Well well well Peter Johnson. This is interesting." The wheelchair bound man turned slightly towards his partner, brow furrowed. "What do you mean?" Mr. D smirked. It was a greasy smile, and it sent a shiver down Ciara's spine. "Well, this scarecrow for one looks as if someone put her into a rack and got a little too enthusiastic. A bit too tall and a bit too thin, aren't you Bonesy?" Mr. D said it distastefully, and Ciara's eyes narrowed.

Just because he was shorter than her AND possibly three times her size! But his words did hit home. No matter how much she exercised or ate, her body stubbornly remained startlingly slim. And although most people would roll their eyes at Ciara's complaints, they simply didn't understand how the grass isn't necessarily greener on the other side. Though if course, her body shape was the very least of her concerns at this moment.

"Let alone those clothes, tch. What are you Bonesy? Some kind of pathetic attempt at Goth?" A muscle in Ciara's cheek ticked. No. You wouldn't understand, of course. Stupid, ignorant man. Black is her _least _favourite colour. So devoid of life, so… desolate. What she'd give to wear green…

Eyes turning to Annabeth and her rather painfully orange shirt, Ciara exhaled sharply. "The choice wasn't mine to make, Mr. D." There. Let them puzzle over that. Because Ciara's hands are shaking under the table, her shoulders are trembling with her internal fury. How easy it would be to kill this man. Simply reach across and – the other man, who Ciara figures must be Chiron, steps in at last. "Annabeth. You never introduced our new guests."

Annabeth raked her blonde hair between her fingers, casting her eyes first to Jenny, then to Ciara and finally to Mr. D and Chiron. "This is Jenny. She's a demigod, we found her being attacked by a monster just as she was being claimed –" Percy beside her shook his head slightly, muttering something about "late… already breaking promises… only 4 years…" Switching off from his quiet complaints, Ciara blinked slowly and waited for her own introduction.

"And the girl you noticed Mr. D, is Ciara. We… she… I don't know what she is." Annabeth stuttered out, and instantly Ciara felt the weight of Chiron's gaze on her. Mr. D cleared his throat. "She's not a mortal. That's what she is." Chiron's eyes flicked to Mr. D, confused. Chiron waited for a few moments before continuing for him. "She's not a monster either, or a demigod. But…" Chiron trailed off, resting his chin on his closed fist and giving Ciara one of the most intense looks of her life. Mr. D – who looked slightly irked – finished Chiron's train of thought.

"There is definitely some… trace of _something _there. Something dark, but not necessarily evil. How appropriate, Bonesy. You look quite sinister after all." Ciara's mouth twisted as she lifted her bare hands from beneath the table. Placing the tips of her long fingers on the tabletop, she leaned forward slightly, until her face was the only thing visible in his dark glasses. "I promise you _Mr. D_, that it is _not _just my exterior that's sinister." Ciara snarled, earning herself a panicked look from everyone on the porch as Mr. D exhaled slowly.

"Oh? So what can you do then Bonesy? Slam your hands imposingly on table tops?" Mr. D picked up a hand of cards with one hand, and regarded her over the edges of them. Ciara sucked in a breath, and tip toed her fingers over the table cloth, until her hand hovered just over a fat beetle perched on the curved silver side of Mr. D's diet coke can.

"Hardly." She said slowly, lightly brushing the beetles back with one fingertip. Instantly the bug froze, before falling to the table cloth. Stone. Cold. _Dead._

"Everything I touch, _dies_."

For a few moments, there was a stunned silence.

Jenny swallowed dryly, licking her lips nervously.

Slowly Mr. D leaned back, steepling his fingers. "How appropriate Bonesy…" He mumbled, his sunglasses gleaming in the low afternoon light.

Nico – who had been leaning on one of the porch's pillars – shook his head slowly, his shaggy black hair caught in Ciara's peripheral vision. "No." Nico said simply, crossing his arms. "Just… no."

Annabeth shifted her weight, pushing her blonde hair from her eyes. "I suppose that's what the gloves are for then," she said softly, as Ciara's ears pricked up. Chiron's eyes flicked to Annabeth. "What gloves Ciara?" He asked, picking up the bug and turning its curled body over in his fingers.

Percy cleared his throat. "Who gave you those gloves?" Mr. D chuckled. "Peter Johnson, the immortals are talking." Picking up his can, Mr. D skulled it, chugging the whole can in one grotesque gulp. Sighing with pleasure Mr. D squeezed the can in his hand and before Ciara's eyes; the can shrank until it disappeared completely. "Now, _Ciara. _You are not a demigod. You are not a mortal. You are not a monster. So by process of elimination, what does that make you?"

Ciara's brow furrowed, as she lifted a hand to her chin and rubbed the skin gently. Behind her, Nico rolled his eyes. "Leprechaun," he said dryly, playing with the corner of his jacket. "She's clearly after our lucky charms," he mocked, in one of the worst Irish accents Ciara had ever heard.

Ciara's shoulders rose as she jerked the chair around, eyes flashing. "You wanna say that again?" She said threateningly, clicking her fingers on the wooden edge of the chair's back. Nico chewed on his lip and looked away. "You can't kill me." He said slowly, chuckling as Ciara's lip twisted.

"Wanna bet on tha –"

Chiron cleared his throat and reluctantly Ciara turned back to the table, giving Nico one last glare. Although… her looks don't need to kill, do they? "The gloves?" Chiron politely reminded her, an air of impatience edging his voice. Ciara shifted in her seat, mouth buckling in preparation for a truckload of white lies.

"Don't bother lying, Bonesy. I'll know." Mr. D smiled. Ciara rolled her eyes.

"They were given to me."

"By who?"

"A friend."

"Which friend?"

"…A good one. Tony." Ciara mumbled, eyes flicking over the campground. In the distance, people were picking strawberries. Hmmm. Seems the van _was_ legit after all. But Ciara was less interested in the camp, and was more concerned with searching for a dark figure with sweeping steps, dressed in black. He always came when she needed him. Never necessarily immediately, but her saviour was always at the very least on his way.

_Tony, where are you?_

"Who's Tony?"

"I already told you. He's a friend."

Chiron and Mr. D exchanged a look. _This is getting us nowhere. _"Tell us about Tony," Chiron said, exhaling slowly. Ciara tensed, feeling all of their eyes on her, burning holes into her skin. "Tony… he… he's…" Ciara stopped, trying to find the words, glancing back over to the fields. "Tony is... errr…" Ciara paused for a moment, before continuing. "He gave me the gloves, after I…" Ciara trailed off, the words dying in her throat. "He makes sure that I don't hurt anyone, he's the only one who understands."

Chiron nodded, as Mr. D's fingers rapped the table impatiently. "I'm not interested in your mushy Friends Forever crap Bonesy. What's his real name? And why does he protect you?"

Ciara swallowed, eyes flicking back to the strawberry pickers for a moment. There was one blonde boy wandering through the vines, and perhaps five girls stripping the plants of the sweet berries. But that wasn't what Ciara was looking at.

"Well Mr. D… He's standing right there. So why don't you ask _him?_" Leaning back in her chair Ciara watched Tony approach, his black leather jacket rippling like the sea with every step he took towards them. Annabeth, Percy and Nico parted as he approached, stepping over all three of the porch steps with ease.

Mr. D's eyes narrowed as Chiron stared, taken aback. "_You."_ Mr. D snarled.

Tony's dark lip twitched upwards into a smirk. "_Me. _It's been awhile, Dionysus."

"Not long enough."

"I couldn't agree more." His hazel eyes flicked to Ciara, giving her an anxious onceover. "She's fine." Mr. D snapped. "We were just interested in what your little girl actually is." Tony raised an eyebrow. "Well, I suppose you two _would _like to know that. Your insatiable hunger for knowledge knows no bounds after all. Especially you, Chiron."

"_What. Is. She?"_

Tony smirked, rolling his shoulders as if his jacket was too constricting.

"Wouldn't you like to know, little Olympian. Wouldn't you just _love _to know."

And with that, he took Ciara's arm, and the both of them vanished.

…**Review? You know you want to.**


	4. Explanations

**Disclaimer: In my devious plot for world domination, owning the rights to a book series with millions of faithful fans is stage 4. I am currently at stage 0.000001. But slow and steady wins the race.**

**Review, pretty please. There, now you have to… because otherwise you are undermining the efforts of mothers everywhere that politeness will get you what you want :D**

Chasing Butterflies

When Ciara opened her eyes, they were no longer standing on the Big House's porch. Of course Ciara wasn't surprised by this. She had teleported with Tony before, and now the sucking sensation of a million octopi tugging her every which way was disconcertingly familiar.

The two of them were standing in a dimly lit room, which was plain except for a dubious looking bed in the corner and a naked light bulb dangling from the ceiling. On the side opposite the door, someone had drawn a window in ball point pen. It wasn't a particularly scenic spot, but it ached with familiarity. "You brought us here?" She asked, her voice a mongrel mix of too many emotions to count.

"Yes. We need to talk."

"About what?"

"You, mostly." Ciara looked around, her green eyes suddenly wide. "Tony, Tony would they know –" Tony gently brought their hands up to his chest, and stroked her fingers slowly. "No. How could they? Unless you choose to tell them about it, they'll never know." Ciara stared at her bare hand in his. The light bulb flickered above them, urging Tony to get on with his explanations.

"I suppose you have a lot of questions, don't you?" Tony sighed, slightly more engaged in rubbing her third knuckle. "To begin with it, I'll explain the basics. The Greek gods exist. They currently live in New York, but obviously that's not their place of origin. With them comes the rest of Greek mythology – the monsters, the legends, the heroes, they all exist, or existed." Tony stopped for a moment and evaluated Ciara's expression before continuing.

"The Greek gods, my dear are rather like rabbits. They are thick, need everyone else to solve their problems and feed them and they breed as if there is no tomorrow. This results in demigods, half human and half Greek god. That's what Camp Halfblood is for, because Greek monsters like to kill demigods. Demigods, by modern standards always have what appears to be dyslexia and ADHD. The dysle-" Ciara interrupted here. Yes, she knew about the dyslexia and the ADHD, what she wanted to know was how _she _fitted into this.

"First things first, Ciara. You baffle Chiron and Dionysus because they have never encountered someone like you before. Nor are they likely to encounter someone like you ever again. And they are immortal, Ciara. And the reason that they have never encountered someone like you is because there never has been someone like you, as far as I can recall."

"So… I'm… what?" Ciara's expression was more lost looking than ever. Tony sighed.

"I believe that the best way to describe you is… mortal with benefits."

"Tony, can you please try and explain this in a way that doesn't require you to explain your explanations."

"You aren't a god. But you aren't a mortal, and you certainly are not a demigod. You're sort of… in between all three of them." Tony had now moved on to gently playing with her fingers. Slowly Ciara pulled her hand away, as Tony reluctantly let her hand slip from his grasp.

"How? And why? Who? How is that even possible?" Ciara spluttered.

Tony scratched his head sheepishly, turning his hazel eyes to the wall. "It's difficult to explain, but I needed to do it and –" Ciara's head snapped upwards. "What? _You _made me like this?" Ciara took a step back, and swatted away Tony's effort to brush her shoulder. "Why? Why would you do that to me…to anyone?"

Tony's mouth opened and closed slowly, as his hand hovered uncertainly in place in front of his chest. "It wasn't deliberate at first. You were only a child and I lost control I didn't realise that it would happen –" Ciara shook her head, tears bubbling in the corners of her eyes. "You made my life… you made all those things… it's all your fault…"

Tony's hands shot out, as he held her face between his hands and drew her closer to him, until his lips were a few inches from hers. "You don't think I know that? You don't think I regret it every second, what I've done to you? You trust me. You are the only being in this entire UNIVERSE that trusts me! I didn't have a choice, Ciara. It was this, or lose you altogether."

Suddenly he pulled her into his chest, crushing her against her jacket. His arms snaked around her tighter than a vice, as he rocked her gently. Ciara was numb. Tony breathed near her ear, as he buried his face into her neck. "I can't lose you. I can't."

They stayed like that for a few minutes, arms wrapped around each other. Finally Tony pulled away, flicking a tear from Ciara's cheek. "I wish I could tell you why." He said wistfully. Ciara's lips parted, but she couldn't find anything to say.

Reaching into his jacket, Tony pulled out a well worn book with a green canvas cover. "You left it in the house. I thought that you'd want it back…" Ciara reached and took it, eyes flicking between it and Tony's face. "Thank you." She whispered, cradling it against her chest. Tony smiled. "There are a lot of things hidden in those pages that aren't mean to be publicly seen, aren't there? I wish…" Tony trailed off, brushing an imaginary speck of dirt from his pants. "I wish that we could just put our pasts behind us." Ciara nodded, another strand of hair falling out of her ponytail.

The moment lasted for a few seconds before Tony exhaled sharply. "Alright. I should probably take you back now. It would be best to not try to explain anything; everything will become clear soon enough…" Tony took Ciara's hand, and reminded her to tuck the book under her shirt. Leaning into her ear, Tony pulled her closer until his warm breath tickled her skin. "Goodbye." He whispered.

A moment later Ciara was standing on the Big House's porch, alone. She didn't bother to look around for Tony, it was clear that he was already gone. The only surprise was that Tony's jacket was wrapped around her shoulders.

Mr. D was the first to pounce.

"Bonesy. _Why _did you not tell us that 'Tony' was HIM?" Chiron placed a calming hand on the table near Mr. D's fresh can of Diet Coke. After all, if you can't binge wildly on diet soft drink, what can you binge on?

Ciara stared at the wooden floor of the porch for a moment before answering. "Because I still have no idea what you're actually talking about, sir."

Mr. D's eyes narrowed. "I'm talking about your little friend being a GOD. Not some cheesy protector, but a GOD, whom everyone despises. Except for you, Bonesy. You are clearly not all there." Mr. D sniffed.

Ciara was about to show him how very _there _she was, before everyone on the porch suddenly did a double take.

There was a faint mutter of "Thank the _gods,_" from Nico, as the rest of the group reacted with varying degrees of surprise.

Percy simply looked confused. It was a look that Ciara was beginning to associate with the boy.

Chiron and Annabeth had both turned slightly pale, as faint recognition began to flicker in the girl's eyes.

Mr. D, on the other hand exploded.

"That… He… How dare he? He's _laughing_ at me! By doing this, he's making me look like a total idiot!"

What continued was a long string of some foreign language that Ciara couldn't even begin to understand. Judging, however from Chiron and the demigods' winces it wasn't something that Ciara would particularly want to hear. Speaking of hearing, Ciara's eyes flicked to Jenny, who was sprawled on the ground. Ciara hoped that she'd merely fainted.

"What the hell are you all staring at?" Ciara mumbled, following their gazes upwards. Just as she did so a grey butterfly that appeared to be made of mist faded into the breeze. Annabeth was the first to speak. "Butterflies. They're a symbol of…" Her voice dried up, as she looked at Chiron.

Chiron's face looked grave as a cemetery. "Thanatos. Yes, Annabeth. Butterflies are the symbol of Thanatos." Percy's brow furrowed. "Who is Thanatos?"

This time, it was Nico who answered. "Thanatos is the god of Death, he controls the souls of dead mortals and ensures that they go to Hades without major problems. Every butterfly is supposed to be a soul, that's why they're his symbol."

Ciara giggled. "The symbol of Death… is a butterfly? I was expecting something a little more… threatening." Though in her head, memories were stirring.

_She would have only been a breath away from four, when he first came to her. She was in her room, drawing ribbons of colour with a box of crayons. The first moment she glanced up from her scribbled masterpiece, there was a man in the window. "Hello." She'd mumbled. Mummy said that it was important to greet people. The man had simply smiled. "What are you drawing?" He'd asked gently, his hazel eyes running over the paper. "My daddy. I never met him cause he got shot dead. But this way I can imagine him just the way I want so he can be perfect. Who are you?" The man had seemed slightly taken aback by how matter of fact the child was. Or perhaps it was because her language was actually understandable. "My name is Thanatos." He answered smoothly. Her small mouth tried to wrap themselves around the name, but it proved too much of a challenge for the toddler. "Tony?" She attempted, adding a yellow streak of colour to a wobbly sun as she did so. The man had nodded, and pushed himself off the window. "Yes, Ciara. Tony is fine." For a long moment, he evaluated her picture. "You are very good at drawing, aren't you? You might just be an artist someday… goodbye Ciara. I'll see you again soon." After he'd left, a white butterfly had alighted on her window sill. It stayed there almost constantly for three days._

Snapping back to the present, Ciara blinked at Mr. D, who still seemed rather… upset. He seemed to be winding down however it was difficult to tell, since every string of Greek seemed more identical than the last.

What flares up must die down, and eventually Mr. D was out of steam. For a few moments everyone waited for yet another wave, before Chiron attempted to speak. "You aren't his daughter, are you Ciara?"

Ciara looked as if she was about to blurt something out, before she restrained herself. "He – no. I'm not his daughter."

"But he has claimed you," Annabeth interrupted. "That means that you can stay here… I suppose." She mused, tapping her lip with a thoughtful finger. At the no longer quite so tender age of 20, Annabeth had blossomed into an extremely promising student, studying towards a degree in architecture. This of course had only increased her partiality to looking extremely philosophical and clever all of the time.

Chiron nodded in response. "Yes, Ciara you are welcome to stay here, even though you're a special case. But there is a problem." Chiron's eyes flicked to Nico.

Instantly the boy put up his hands, waving them frantically in front of his face in order to ward off whatever subliminal message Chiron was sending. "No. Just no. That – if you're saying what I think you're saying –" Chiron raised a hand, and Nico's spluttering ceased. Reluctantly.

"Thanatos doesn't have a cabin here at Camp Halfblood." Chiron said matter of factly. Ciara chewed her lip. She didn't really need to ask why that was. Their horrified reactions to her claim had been the answer to that. But why? Why does everyone hate Thanatos? Everyone in the universe… Ciara shook her head softly.

"That means, that Ciara will either have to stay in the Hypnos cabin, or the Hades cabin… I would say Hermes cabin, but that is only a valid place of stay for unclaimed campers and his children… Yes. Either Thanatos's brother or his associate's cabin is probably best." Chiron continued, looking particularly deep in thought. A moment later he was contradicting himself. "But… both of those cabins only have ONE young male camper in them. And mixing sexes alone in a cabin, especially when they aren't of the same parent…" Chiron broke off into thought, trying to solve the problem he'd created for himself.

Annabeth, having latched onto this problem was the first to speak. "Nico doesn't actually stay in his cabin the majority of the time. Clovis on the other hand, nearly constantly stays in his cabin which makes everyone who enters it fall asleep… I personally think Hades cabin is going to be the better option." Nico only growled at this. Having seen this coming from a mile away, he was now beginning to resign to his fate.

Chiron steepled his fingers, and looked to Mr. D. Mr. D was momentarily occupied in squeezing the last drop of coke from his can, until finally he graced the group with his decision. "Let Bonesy stay in Hades's cabin. The two campers don't seem to like each other much, why worry?" Having parted with this sagely advice, Mr. D waved them all off and told Nico to take Bonesy around camp, before turning back to his card game with Chiron.

For the first few minutes of Nico and Ciara walking alone, there was a stony silence. Nico was far more interested in the pebbles on the ground or the scenery than in meeting Ciara's side on gaze. Every once in a while he would point out something like the mess hall or the archery range, until at last they came to a stop in front of a black cabin that looked deliciously sinister.

"Nice digs…" Ciara murmured as Nico prodded her up the steps and shut the cabin door behind them. "Well. I barely ever stay here. Mostly I live with my father in the underworld. So, I guess it's more your digs than mine now." There was a _sproing _as Nico fell backwards onto an extremely messy bed, his arms spread-eagled out around him.

"Sorry about that," Ciara said, choosing a bed on the opposite side of the cabin. Lying on the mattress face down, she propped herself up on her elbows and stared at Nico for a few moments. "Especially since you hate me. This is going to be a bloody awkward stay." Ciara stared at a discarded shirt abandoned on the back of a chair. It was a band shirt, a band she liked no less. Pity that they'd gotten off on the wrong foot.

The interior of the cabin was black, with three beds angled against each side of the cabin except the side with the door. They had both chosen beds with a window at just the right level to stare out of late at night, with your knees tucked up to your chin. There was one chair and one table, and a shelf with a few dusty belongings lazing on it. In one corner there was a cupboard shaped like a screaming set of jaws. That, no doubt was going to be extremely frightening late at night. All in all, Ciara had not just been giving lip service. Even if there was absolutely no green in sight.

"I don't hate you. I just don't like you." Nico stared at the ceiling and sighed. Ciara flicked a lock of ear back behind her ear. _Well. How very reassuring, _she thought. "Why?" Ciara pressed. Nico rolled onto his side, staring straight back at her. "You ignored my excellent advice to stay out of the classroom. You called me a pompous git. You dragged me out of a third floor window. You accused me of being a paedophile, AND every time I've talked to you, you've been rude and sarcastic. The question should be why I should _like _you."

Ciara tapped her chin with a finger, Annabeth's actions were contagious. How very awkward that he had excellent points. "I… cause it would help, considering that we have to live together now. So, err, if I apologised for that, we'd be good?" Nico rolled his eyes briefly. "Sure. Until you slip back into acting like a total dick again."

Ciara stiffened. "It's not like you're a ray of sunshine either."

Nico said nothing.

Ciara chose to take that as a small victory. They lapsed into silence for a few minutes, before Nico finally stirred.

"So."

"So." Ciara replied.

"Do you… like hobbies?"

Ciara's lip twitched, and a moment later the two burst into giggles, though in Nico's defense it was a very manly giggle for a gangly sixteen year old. As the laughter started to trickle to a halt, Nico and Ciara's eyes met, with slightly more understanding of one another. They were not necessarily friends, but there was the beginning of something there. Ciara was the first to stop, which surprised both of them. "Yeah. I do. I draw, mostly. You?"

Nico, who was still smiling, took a few moments to answer. "Yep. I see dead people."

"That's not a hobby, that's more of a… movie reference. And also it's an ability too, I suppose."

This of course only invoked more jokes, references and even a small rapping performance from Nico before finally after a few minutes (or perhaps it was hours, neither could really tell) Nico checked his watch and dragged Ciara from the cabin and out to the mess hall.

They both took a seat at the Hades table; where Nico quietly instructed her on how the food and drink worked, and that the coke didn't taste exactly the same but it was close enough to be an acceptable substitute. He also stood over her as she offered some food to Hades, because it felt necessary to thank the guy who was now indirectly her landlord. As the two ate every few minutes, Nico would glance over at the Demeter table. It was quieter than the other tables, and Jenny was being babied and cooed over vigorously. Ciara elbowed him over his chicken drumstick the moment she realised this. "Who're you soft on then?" She asked, nearly spilling his coke.

"No one! I'm not soft on anyone!" This of course didn't deter Ciara even slightly, and the rest of the evening was spent by Nico trying to shut Ciara up, even resorting to sticking his hands over her mouth as they made their way back to the cabin. As the two reached the door and climbed into their beds, Ciara only had one thing to say. "…Can I be your wing girl?"

Nico simply threw a black pillow at her and pulled the other over his head to hide his burning face, not deigning her with a response. 

**Said it once, I'll say it again, review like the lovely readers that you are :D**


	5. Murder

**Disclaimer: Every time that I have say that I don't own a multimillion book series; I die a little on the inside.**

**I am so sorry for the late update! My internet hasn't been working properly, so to make it up to you; I put two clues in this chapter and made it slightly longer than usual. Tomorrow's chapter should be up as normal **

Chasing Butterflies

Ciara had now been living in Camp Halfblood for just over three days, and she'd never been so humiliated and exhausted.

The first full day she'd spent at Camp, Nico had argued with Annabeth and Chiron until Ciara and him had identical timetables. It hadn't been an excellent start to the day. To add insult to injury their cabin completely and utterly failed morning inspection to the point that the poor councillor actually fainted.

The lessons were tiring and embarrassing, it seemed that no matter how hard Ciara tried, she just couldn't conjugate verbs in Annabeth's class on Ancient Greek, or remember the different heroes and what they actually did under Grover's patient tutoring in Greek Mythology. Nico had attempted to give her the answers, but Annabeth had abruptly separated them, leaving Ciara to sink deeper and deeper into depressing despair.

It didn't help that Chiron insisted that she actually _attend _all of her classes.

The practical classes were both far better and infinitely worse. In archery Ciara had watched the Apollo kids shoot bulls eye after bulls eye, and under careful instruction from Chiron (back straight, use three fingers, pull back slowly with control…) Ciara had successfully shot her first arrow. Straight through an unfortunate bird. That wasn't roosting on the archery range.

Chiron had said that her range and arm strength was impressive, but that her aim "needs work."

Javelin throwing had been worse, the stick was so unwieldy that Ciara could barely hold it, let alone throw it competently.

Her frustration at classes was slowly but surely making her distant from everyone except the hapless Nico, as she'd frequently snap at anyone who tried to start a conversation because she pessimistically believed that it would be another stab at her.

Ciara had quickly settled into a routine at Camp Halfblood – in the morning, her brain would hurt. In the afternoon, her body would hurt. And 100% of the time, her pride would hurt.

It had been three days, but to Ciara it felt like an eternity. Nico could see how bruised her self esteem was becoming, but there was nothing either could do. Ciara's seemingly mortal body just couldn't compare to the strength and speed of a demigod's.

There was only one aspect of Camp Halfblood that Ciara shone at, and that was being the muse for Camp Halfblood's voracious gossip mongers.

Everywhere the slender girl walked, whispers followed.

"Have you heard about the new girl? Nothing impressive face-wise and almost flat as the floor, but amazing figure, legs up to _here!"_

"I heard that she and Nico are totally friends with benefits."

"I heard that she's been terrorising poor Jenny since they were kids!"

"Didn't she wildly attack a chimera? Psycho with a death wish I'd say."

So when Ciara woke up on the fourth morning with a foreboding feeling, nothing felt out of place.

Breakfast with Nico, and she spilt orange juice on the immaculate white and purple table cloth.

Cabin inspection, and because she preferred her bed in more of a "nest" shape, it was failed.

Ancient Greek with Annabeth. Given a copy of verbs to fill in, and Annabeth got rather angry when an exasperated Ciara yelled "LOOK, IT'S ALL GREEK TO ME." Especially when the entire class erupted into giggles.

Helped prepare lunch, and accidentally sliced thumb instead of cheese.

Lunch was spent watching Nico sigh and struggle to not look at the Demeter table. Ciara had tried multiple times to follow his gaze and work out which girl he was mooning over, but the boy who too damn cunning.

And after lunch was a class Ciara had been dreading since her first peek at her timetable.

_Sword skills._

Nico seemed slightly nervous as well as he led her to the armoury. At first look it wasn't a very imposing building, could Ciara could have sworn that as they approached, the building grew. And no, she doesn't mean that in the "objects that are closer look bigger" way.

As Nico pushed open the door, they were greeted by the smell of oil, and rows of swords that glittered like thousands of eyes in the mid afternoon sun. Nico's fingers hovered over the swords for a moment before picking up a long thin blade that looked as if a strong gust would snap it into two.

The bronze of the sword seemed to suck the colour from his already pale skin, and Nico swished it once playfully before handing it to Ciara.

"How does that feel Cici?" Nico was too lazy to pronounce her full name. Instead he'd chosen to shorten it, even though Ciara had pointed out that names lead to attachment and Nico had said himself that he spent very little time in Camp Halfblood.

"Ummm… sharp, I guess? Pretty smooth, even though the hilt's a little worn…" Nico chuckled dryly, plucking at the corner of his violently orange camp shirt. "No, I mean is it too light, too heavy, does it feel right?"

Ciara sighed, and dropped the sword back onto the pile Nico had taken it from, wincing at the angry clang of metal. Brushing a speck of dirt off her camp shirt, she stared at Nico's feet, a difficult feat considering that he was significantly shorter than he was.

Ciara's camp shirt was one of the most intriguing mysteries to campers. All campers were given an orange shirt to identify them as members. Ciara and Jenny had both arrived at Camp Halfblood with literally only the clothes on their backs, and as a result both had been given several orange shirts and a few shorts and jeans that the original owners "no longer had use for."

However, the moment that Ciara pulled the fluorescent monstrosity over her head, the orange changed into an inky black. The same went for the denim shorts she'd been gifted, that were already an awkward and baggy fit on her willowy frame. However, when the clothes came off, they would return to their original gaudy colours.

To most, this was just too novel to ignore. Only Nico seemed to notice how deeply upset Ciara was by it.

"Nico, how will I know what feels right if I've never felt anything feel right before?" Ciara's voice was unusually low, and Nico shifted his weight from one foot to the other, unsure of how to respond.

"You just… know."

Ciara's green eyes lifted to meet his, as she chewed on her lip, mulling over his answer. "I… Ok. Too light, I guess."

Nico hmmmmed for a long moment, before choosing a sturdier sword that had a red tinge that glowed in the light trickling through the door. Twisting it skilfully in one hand, Nico tossed it to Ciara, who shrieked in panic at the incredibly sharp object hurtling toward her before ducking sideways to narrowly avoid being clipped.

"NICO? YOU CAN'T JUST CASUALLY THROW SWORDS LIKE THAT!"

Nico took a few minutes to placate her before they resumed their search. Twenty minutes later they still had found nothing, and each sword seemed to be a worse fit than the last. Eventually Ciara settled for an extremely long sword that was so tarnished that it looked slightly green.

Nico seemed slightly unhappy with her choice but as they were on a schedule he just muttered something and led her out to the arena and instructed her on how the sword should be held and the right stance to stand in.

After a rushed ten minutes of instruction, Nico deemed her ready. By this time a small crowd had gathered, the majority being Aphrodite girls that liked to stare at Nico and imagine him into things he wasn't. However, the figure that Nico was most aware of was Percy who lounged on the fence, intently focussed on the two of them.

Nico's voice dragged Ciara's attention back to the two of them and the sword gripped tightly in her right hand. "Ok. I don't think we should bother with armour, because I won't be fighting to kill, and I doubt that you'll be able to hurt me." Ciara's eyes narrowed, but she chose to not bother with an indignant retort.

Nico noticed the tightening of her jaw and laughed. "Ready?"

Ciara growled. Sword skills. This class, lesson, activity, whatever you want to call it, was _not_ one her pride could afford to fail. "As I'll ever be."

Nico adopted a perfect stance that Ciara poorly mimicked.

She had built up expectations in her head of what this would be like. It would be a deadly dance, and the clash of metal would be their ringing rhythm. Or perhaps it would be a pure adrenalin rush, each move faster and more heart stopping than the last.

But as Nico lunged, his black sword swallowing every ray of sun that struck it Ciara realised that it was going to be neither.

Her body was frozen, following none of her commands. Something had short circuited, and now she was going to _die_. Not even a second had passed, but time was moving like treacle. At the last possible moment her arm jerked up and clumsily parried his blow, sending shooting stars of shock up her arm.

A moment later Nico's sword was snaking in again and this time Ciara's sword merely glanced off the side with a metallic shriek, batting his sword back. Nico's brows furrowed as his wrist twisted backwards, biting down on his pale lip.

Again and again, Nico would go in to slice her but Ciara would inelegantly beat him back, it never occurred to her to actually attempt a swipe at him herself. Her sword arm was oozing blood from a gash on her upper arm and her muscles were reminding her of the past few days' hardships with every clang of his sword against her's. Eventually her parries began to get weaker, until they barely hindered Nico at all.

Nico himself was dripping with sweat, his shirt clung to him in a way that made his female spectators (and a few males) blush with delight. But as the minutes trickled on, Ciara finally did something that surprised him.

For the billionth time he lifted his sword arm to catch her with a strong swipe with the flat side of the blade.

For the billionth time, she lifted her sword in a last ditch attempt to parry, that would leave both their arms jolted and aching.

But for the first time as the clang of their swords brought them close together, Ciara balled her left fist and smashed it into the back of his head. Disorientated, Nico stumbled forwards.

Blindly pushing his sword forward in an effort to balance himself he crashed into Ciara. Together they crumpled into the sand of the arena, tinged with the blood of hundreds before them. Nico took a few moments to get his bearings, before he pushed himself to his knees. Ciara, who surely must have been stunned, laid there, eyes open but dazed.

It took another moment or so for Nico to climb to his feet, before offering his hand to help Ciara up.

Nothing.

It was then that Nico began to worry that he'd given her a concussion or something.

Dropping his sword he knelt beside her, lifting her body up slowly. "Cici! Cici are you alright?" His voice was shriller than anyone in camp had ever heard it as he shook her limp body, deep down aware that shaking an unconscious person would not be a bright idea.

It wasn't difficult to lift her to her feet, and after a few heart stopping seconds she blinked slowly. Nico shuddered with relief. But her eyelids fluttered closed again and time began to slow as Nico realized what had just happened.

He stared at his hands, his sword lying in the dust, at _Ciara._

Red. Coppery, dark red.

Red that was staining his hands, glistening on his wet blade, seeping through her black shirt. Red.

_Blood. _

It was spreading everywhere. Now it had infected his shirt, the sand of the arena, Ciara's hands as she shakily placed her pale hands over her stomach in a feeble attempt to stop blood leaking through her fingers.

Nico staggered backwards and dropped Ciara's hands. Without his support she slumped to her knees, moaning softly. In a moment, Percy had vaulted over the fence and had scooped up Ciara, an odd sight considering that she was slightly taller than him. "Nico! We need to get her to the infirmary! Now!"

Each word punctured Nico in the chest as he started to chase after Percy numbly, barely thinking as he picked up his sword and ran past the crowd which had been admiring his form moments before. Now the throng parted like the sea as he and Percy raced through it, leaving a sinister trail of drops behind them.

Dashing in front of Percy Nico slammed the doors of the infirmary open. Before an angry Apollo camper could yell at him Percy was inside, dropping Ciara onto the nearest empty bed. It seemed that her wound was bleeding a little more every moment, as the perfect white sheets blossomed with blood.

Instantly three campers were around her and pulling at her shirt. Tossing it aside, Nico flinched at the sight of Ciara's bloody torso. It was disfigured by an ugly, ragged gash that seemed impossibly huge – how could he have possibly made that?

Nico reeled backwards, his long fingers questing for the wooden walls as he sunk down along it, until he was curled up on the floor, arms shielding his eyes and ears from the panic of the makeshift doctors.

"Oh gods… There's so much blood…"

"What do we do? It's all the way through, it's like she's been impaled! Oh Hades, what can we do?"

The third camper said nothing. He simply rolled Ciara onto her side and pressed a towel onto the wound, his mouth set in a grim line. "Apply pressure, and stop the bleeding. It's all we can do."

Twenty minutes later, Ciara had lapsed into unconsciousness. The medics had bandaged her tightly while muttering under their breaths, giving each other pointed looks.

Finally Nico had had enough and he untangled his legs and shuffled over, not daring to peek at Ciara's deathly pale face. Percy's eyes met his, and Nico's lip wobbled dangerously.

He had never really tried to make friends with anyone at Camp Halfblood.

It had always served him well to simply treat everyone coldly and to keep to himself and his ghosts. But Ciara, she'd been too boisterous and annoying to ignore. He'd figured that in the brief time he'd known her that they were starting to become really good friends… She hadn't even batted an eyelid when he told her that he was chronologically old enough to be her grandfather.

And now, as she lay on the bed covered in bandages, _with a wound that he'd caused. _She looked so frail and small and cold.

Gods, he couldn't deal with _another _person that he cared about dying. Everyone, everyone he touches dies… Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and he fiercely brushed them away. _Don't want to look weak in front of Percy._

Percy. They'd both grown up since Nico's days of mythomagic, and now it was Percy's last summer at Camp Halfblood for good. It was why Nico had come up from the underworld. Over the years, he'd come to respect the son of Neptune, even if Percy sometimes slipped up and treated him like a kid.

Perhaps it was because he'd lost Bianca that he chose to adopt Percy as an older brother figure. We always seek to regain the dear things we've lost, after all. He'd done the same with Cici in a way. They were the same age, but she reminded him so much of Bianca…

And now he was losing her, just like Bianca.

The most senior medic – the only one to not lose his head in the panic – cleared his throat. He wasn't a camper that Nico knew well. He took after his father too much for Nico to like him. Blonde, handsome, the kind of boy that has girls following him around on strings. The kind of boy that Nico tended to despise, because let's face it, everyone judges books by their covers.

"We've done everything we can Percy."

Percy stared at the medic's face, read the message in his clear blue eyes. Nico gasped, his entire body beginning to deflate like a balloon as his black eyes wheeled with emotion.

"N-no! She can't die! _You have to do something you aren't trying hard enough –"_

"_Nico._ That's enough." Percy's sharp tone instantly silenced the younger man, as Nico pulled his head away sharply, gazing intently at Ciara's ghostly face. Ghostly. Not ghost. Not yet.

_Even her lips are white._

Nico's hands balled into fists, as he whipped around, terrifying the junior medics. "She can't die." He said matter of factly, almost confidently.

"She, she just can't…" His word broke over the simple words, as he shook his head to clear his eyes of tears. Bianca, his father even had always criticized him for getting attached too much too quickly. Impulsive judgements that last a lifetime.

"There has to be something else you can do?" Percy asked, somehow he'd crossed Ciara's bed to stand beside Nico. His hand gently brushed Nico's shoulder to silently console the broken boy.

However, Percy couldn't help constantly looking over to the ajar door of the infirmary. Ciara's protector. Thanatos. Where is he, at a time like this…?

The senior medic sighed, staring down at his fingers. They were red all over, even under his fingernails. Both Percy and Nico caught his small judder of repulsion.

They both also caught the way that he chewed his lip thoughtfully, and how his hand tapped a small dance on his hip. It was quite a girlish habit, but neither wanted to point this out.

But suddenly, they were interrupted by silence.

Ciara's soft, shallow breathing…

Had stopped.

Instantly the three Apollo campers grabbed at her wrists and neck, desperate for the faint butterfly heartbeat of her pulse. Instantly relief swept over their faces, then puzzlement.

Her heart was beating, but she wasn't breathing. The colour had left her cheeks, but the blood still flowed under the skin.

Suddenly the ajar door was slammed into the wall by a breathless Annabeth, who beckoned Percy and Nico impatiently. Her blonde hair was falling out of her messy ponytail, and her grey eyes were bright from running. "I… You all need to see this."

Half dragging the two boys behind her (although really, Percy shouldn't be classified as such) Annabeth only slowed her relentless pace when they reached the middle of camp, where a few hapless young campers were holding a high powered hose. The hose was set to spray a fine mist that made a huge surface area for an Iris message, at least five times bigger than one Nico had ever seen.

Almost the entire camp had gathered to watch, as Clarisse stood in the middle of the screen. Clarisse, having finished school and entered into the army was no longer a regular at Camp Halfblood, though the scattered visits she made were well enough to burn herself into every single camper's memory.

However, today her sharp brown eyes were wide with disbelief and shock. Blood was running down a cut in her forehead as she peered into the screen, only starting to speak when she caught sight of Annabeth.

"You guys don't have access to the outside world so someone has to tell you or something but there's a lot of crazy shit going on people in car crashes aren't dying and there's this one guy who just got shot and oh… gods…"

A man clutching his head lurched into the I-M screen, blood pouring down his shoulders as he staggered wildly towards Clarisse. As he approached he stretched his heads out to her. As his hands unfurled revealing his head, the whole camp recoiled. Because there was only half a head _there._

His brains were leaking out of the right side of his skull, and his eyeball dangled against the ripped flesh of his cheek. Behind Annabeth, a camper vomited noisily. The man's head lolled, as his tendons twitched in an attempt to speak.

"K-k-killlllll merrrrrr" He mumbled, clutching at Clarisse's shirt as she tried to shove him away. "Pppppleazzzuhhh" His tongue flopped in his mouth, as he rubbed his bloody fingers against Clarisse in a desperate attempt to get her to help him. Clarisse yelled something incomprehensible and the man slowly wobbled away. Slowly Clarisse turned back to the screen and brushed a loose strand of hair from her eyes with a shaking hand.

"People are panicking because it's like some sort of zombie apocalypse… No one can fucking _die._ I saw a man jump off a twenty storey building, and he _isn't fucking dead." _Clarisse's eyes flicked to what looked like a pile of raspberry jelly on the side walk, which twitched and moaned softly. "It's worse here because this is a war zone, but from what I hear, it's like this everywhere… What the fuck is going on?"

A moment later the image flickered, and Clarisse gave the campers one last hapless look before the image disappeared entirely.

For a few moments, the camp was struck with a shocked silence. Nico's eyes turned to Percy, who was staring straight ahead, unseeing.

"Thanatos…" Annabeth mumbled, taking Percy's hand and squeezing it until the skin went white. Percy didn't even flinch.

"Something… something very terrible has gone wrong…" Without another shell shocked word from Annabeth Nico turned on his heels and raced back to the infirmary.

Crouching beside Ciara's bed he grabbed her clammy hand, unsure of what to do next, or why he'd ran so fast that his blood was ringing through his ears. "Cici. Cici." He pleaded, and after one eternal moment, her head lolled towards him, and she took a deep, shuddering breath. Nico's head drooped as his shoulders shook.

She's alive. _Alive!_

"Nnnico," She mumbled, gripping his hand tightly. It was an odd feeling, knowing that an invisible layer of fabric separated their skin. Suddenly her eyes snapped open, and she struggled to sit up. Nico instantly pushed her back down, acutely aware of her injuries.

Disorientated but trusting, she accepted the pressure on her shoulders and sank back into the mattress. Her lips parted, as she searched for the right words to say.

"Nico… something terrible has happened…"

Nico blinked, Ciara had been unconscious… dead, even. How could she possibly know?

"Thanatos… He's… Nico, I think that he's _dead._"

Nico shook his head, and Ciara's brow knitted into a perplexed knot.

"Cici that's impossible. You can't kill Death, that's absurd." Nico's free hand reached across and brushed Ciara's forehead free of a few clingy strands of hair.

Ciara's head shook so violently that Nico's heart skipped a beat, what if she reopened her wound?

"No, Nico… He's dead. I know it!"

"Then that means…" Nico licked his lips nervously.

"Yes. Someone has murdered Death."

**There, you wanted action, you got it. Gory, armageddonic (like my new word?) action. Please review, and tell me what you think ^_^**


	6. Succession

**Disclaimer: Merrr. Can't think of a witty way to say that I don't own Percy Jackson.**

**Ok, so I know I'm late again. I'm a very bad person. But my internet provider is the freaking Antichrist…**

**So I looked at my traffic stats, (admittedly got a small ego boost) then looked at my reviews. I did this back and forth a few times, each time getting a little more depressed. Y U NO REVIEW MAH LOVELY READERS? **

… **Should I be taking a hint? **

**So, in an effort to try and close the gap between the two, I'm holding a little competition.**

**Everyone who reviews on this chapter has the option to submit a character. One of these submitted characters will be Nico's mystery crush. Not one of the first five submitted, not one of the first ten, every submitted character will be considered! **

**Ready, set, REVIEW!**

**My dear sweet Miss-Li-Ding, I tried to make this clue blaringly obvious. No, really, I did. Honest. I also considered having the murderer run across camp carrying a bloody knife, but I had a feeling that it would come across as slightly insulting to your respective intelligences.**

Chasing Butterflies

Nico stared at Ciara, unsure of what to say. Her voice was strong, but he could see the way her lip was trembling. The way that her eyes were welling with thick tears.

Nico gripped her hand tightly, rubbing her knuckles softly with his thumb.

Suddenly Ciara burst into tears, jerking her hand away from his. Her entire body shook with raw sorrow and Nico could see that the bandages encasing her torso were being stretched and twisted dangerously tight.

Even if she couldn't die, Nico didn't want to see the first drops of blood leak through that bandage. Not again.

"Ciara…" Nico swallowed. He felt angry and lost, because right now she needed him to soothe her and he was being _fucking useless._ His freed hand hovered over her back, looking stupid in midair. Slowly it dropped back to his side.

Ciara hacked a sob and wiped at her eyes with a fist, blinking a few times before she looked at Nico. Her black eyelashes had stuck into little triangles, and her eyes were already red rimmed. Inside, Nico's heart twisted in his chest. "What?" She asked. Her voice was scarily dead pan, completely lacking the thick low sound that crying people have.

Nico was slightly put off for a moment that she'd actually heard him. What was he going to say now? 'I'm sorry for your loss?' 'It's alright?' Or the abominable 'Are you okay?' Because Nico knew that none of those would help. They only make the pain worse.

"Please don't cry." Nico said, helplessly unsure of what to do with his hands. You'd think that he'd know how to comfort a grieving person after all of his experience, but it's the same awkwardness every time. Ciara sniffed, rubbing at her cheeks, erasing the pale tear streaks.

"I hate seeing you cry…" Nico mumbled, and suddenly Ciara had leant across and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her damp face into his shoulder. The tremors of her slim body were absorbed into him as he stroked the back of her head softly, his mouth shaping various silent words of comfort. Ciara murmured something into his shirt that Nico had to prick his ears to catch.

"I know he's dead, because even when he was kidnapped a few years ago, people still died. I should be dead Nico. But he's dead instead. _I'm the one who is supposed to be dead."_ Nico's arm tightened around her waist, acutely aware of how her wound surely must have reopened by now.

"It's not your fault. Cici, he was murdered. You are _not _to blame for this. Think of him. He wouldn't want you feeling guilty for this. He'd want you to find his killer, and make _them _guilty." Nico's voice was unusually fierce, and for the first time in a long time, Nico felt like he was making a difference.

He could feel Ciara nodding into his shirt as she slowly relaxed, until her entire body was still.

Instantly Nico panicked, pulling himself away and holding Ciara tightly by the shoulders he gazed into her eyes worriedly. Ciara stared back at him, slightly bewildered. "I'm not dead Nico. I'm never going to be dead." This realization made Ciara's eyes widen, as she gasped softly.

"Oh my gods. No one's ever going to die if Death is dead."

Nico nodded, and then suddenly realized what she meant. Dying people in perpetual pain, taking up the earth and eclipsing the lives of the living.

The death of all civilization.

The killing blow to mortal society.

The end of the gods.

Exactly what his father sought to prevent.

Exactly what Thanatos once had prevented. The reason that he'd been universally despised was the same reason that had kept the world in balance and in extension under the Olympians' power.

Nico shifted in his seat, and suddenly burst into laughter.

Ciara stared at him, silently asking him what was so funny. Well. Either that, or wondering if insanity was contagious.

Nico merely grinned. "I guess 2012 was a few years off huh?" Ciara merely raised an eyebrow, dismissing some of the blackest humour she'd ever heard. Pushing out the sound of Nico's (mannish) giggles, Ciara stared down at her hands.

Wondering.

Was she free of the curse? The curse that Tony no, Thanatos had placed on her?

Then it hit her.

But before she could relay her realization to Nico, a vaguely familiar Apollo camper strode through the doors, brushing his blonde hair from his eyes. "Nico." He said, in a voice that sounded like it was ready to drip honey. Nico slowly turned, recognizing the senior medic immediately.

The boy stepped towards the bed, placing his long fingers on the white end rail of the bed. "She may not be dead, but she's too close to it for my comfort. Me and my siblings did not tire our throats singing healing songs just to see her wounds get worse from you reopening them. She needs sleep Nico. Come back in a few hours."

Ciara instantly sat up, pulling at Nico's wrist. "Nico. Nico before you go,"

Nico turned, ignoring the gradually more and more incensed medic.

Ciara was suddenly winded by a lance of pain ripping through her gut as she sank back into the covers. Her face twisted in pain as she groaned loudly. Nico instantly was shepherded out of the infirmary by the medic who quietly repeated variations of "See what you've done?" in a furious murmur.

After a few agonising seconds the pain passed and Ciara unclenched one eye and looked around the wooden cabin for Nico's familiar pallid face. It had always struck her as odd that his olive skin could appear so pale.

"Nico," she said to an empty room, her voice bouncing and cartwheeling off the echoing walls. "Nico. I'm not Thanatos's daughter." The room seemed to creak in response and then suddenly said rather loudly, "Thank you Captain Obvious."

The medic rose from a chair in the corner and stepped over to the bed, placing a cooling hand on Ciara's forehead. Ciara simply stared at him in response, her eyes cold as ice. The medic smiled slowly and took a seat next to Ciara. His eyes flicked to a plate of food and a golden cup placed precariously next to the bed, and on cue Ciara's stomach rumbled. Clearly a hole through the middle of it was not going to deter Ciara's appetite in the slightest.

Ohhhhhhh gods. The drink even had small beads of coolness dripping down the sides.

Suddenly Ciara remembered how brain clenchingly hot it was.

Reaching out to brush the glass with her fingers, the medic slapped her hand away.

Growling under her breath, Ciara tried again, and _again _the medic simply pushed her hand away with a practiced flick of the wrist.

Again and again she tried, until the medic, who was beginning to cross the fine line between annoyed and angry as hell finally grabbed Ciara's wrist. "If you eat that ambrosia and nectar, you will die."

Ciara's face sobered for a second and slowly the medic released her wrist. Instantly her arm shot out and grabbed the drink, and before the medic could move a muscle, the drink was nestled safely against her chest. "But no one can die." She said, voice full of completely faked sweetness.

The medic bristled. A small vein was beginning to tick in his neck. "You will disintegrate into ashes. Is that really how you want to live?"

For a moment, for the medic's sake Ciara considered it. Or at least pretended to.

"Yeah. I'm really fucking thirsty." With that she skulled the drink and gulped down half the cup.

The medic put his head in his hands and groaned. A few seconds later, he peeped out between a gap in his fingers. Ciara was gone.

The medic leapt to his feet and peered at the covers for a suspicious lump, but there was nothing. He wasn't really surprised by this. After all, if one sip turns a mortal to ash, what would an entire cup do?

Something brushed his shoulder and the medic shrieked, whipping around and whacking Ciara in the face with a flailing fist. The tall girl collapsed to the floor, clutching her nose.

"Fugg yew! Yew bwoke muy nawse yew –"

The medic dropped to his knees and reached towards Ciara's face. "Oh gods… I'm sorry!" Ciara's leg spun around and caught him hard in the ankle as she shakily got to her knees. "Biich if yew troiy to kik mey whoile I'm doiwn oil brayke yurr leig!" Her strong Oirish (as the campers had dubbed it) accent combined with her nose made Ciara almost incomprehensible.

The medic whimpered, curling into a ball. Slowly Ciara got to her feet, and picked up a cookie from the plate, and bit into it slowly. Her nose instantly stopped aching and, being the kind sweet girl she was she threw one to the floor at the medic. After all, broken bones _hurt,_ don't they?

At the door she turned and stared at the medic, who raised his head just enough to meet her eyes. "You'll go far, y'know." Ciara said, smiling warmly. The medic grinned. But before he could accept the compliment, Ciara continued. "And the sooner you leave, the better."

With that she turned and stepped out of the infirmary, and marched back to Hades Cabin. Flopping onto her bed, Ciara promptly fell asleep.

A few hours later, Ciara was woken by the slam of the door and Nico's shriek of surprise. Ciara awoke instantly and when she rolled out of bed she was caught by a sudden stab of pain in her back. Reaching back to stroke her spine with a horrible sense of foreboding, Ciara screamed when her fingers brushed a large bump.

Oh gods oh gods oh gods.

Did she have… a HUMP!

Ignoring Nico's flurry of questions Ciara pulled her shirt off (this invoked another bout of agony) and ran over to the mirror. The bloody bandage around her middle was the first thing to go as she examined her stomach. The pale skin was completely unblemished, and there was no sign of the wound that had _definitely_ been there an hour ago.

Running a finger over her abs Ciara searched for a silvery scar, anything. But there was nothing at all. Heck, what was in that drink, and that cookie for that matter?

Finally Ciara's mind registered Nico's shuddering gasp. "Cici… Your… your back…!" Slowly Ciara turned until she could see her back in the mirror. Her mint eyes widened, as Ciara's fingers trembled at her sides. "Oh…"

For the first time in a long time, Ciara was speechless.

Because there were two rather large bumps that started at her shoulder blades and continued down to just past her last ribs. Nico summed up what they were both thinking.

"What the fuck are those?"

Ciara touched one bump and winced. The skin was grotesquely stretched. "I… I don't know…"

Nico gulped. Suddenly Ciara shrieked as one of the bumps began to tremor, stretching her skin to breaking point.

Every millimetre it stretched made Ciara's screams rise an octave, and Nico couldn't help but glance at a glass on the shelf to see if it had broken yet.

Suddenly the skin split open like some sort of sick balloon and two black bloody things burst out of her back. Nico staggered backwards, forgetting in his panic that he was already at the door. Tumbling down the stairs, Nico almost fainted. "WHAT THE FUCK?" He screamed, earning several stares from fellow campers.

Great. That was not going to help the rumours racing around.

Ciara herself was craning her neck to stare into the mirror and staring at her new growths. They quivered violently under her gaze, sending hundreds of little droplets onto the floor.

No matter what she and Nico did, they were always doomed to fail cabin inspection.

Gently Ciara flexed her shoulders, and the growths stretched out and shook themselves, until they were only slightly damp. Under the soft cabin light Ciara peered at them, trying to figure out what the hell she'd just sprouted.

A feather caught the light, and Ciara did a double take. Feather. Feathers. Birds… Fucking wings? She'd grown fucking wings?

Ciara wasn't sure whether to be shocked or delighted, or angry at herself for being so scared and surprised. How ironic that she'd always been jealous of Thanatos's wings.

Abruptly Ciara whipped around to face the mirror and examined her face. Thanatos had always been well, beautiful. Ciara's face was too angular to be pretty, her nose was too sharp, and her cheekbones were too obvious in her thin face. Her bone structure was nothing to be desired.

But now… Ciara poked one of her cheeks with a shaking finger. "No… no fucking way…" She whispered. She was still recognizable, but her face had shifted in tiny subtle ways. Now… just… wow.

Her face was still recognizable, but now there was some sort of aura about it that had changed everything.

Nico clambered up to steps, rubbing the back of his head. When he caught sight of Ciara's reflection in the mirror, he almost fell down the stairs again, and only grabbed the doorframe just in time. "Ciara…" He whispered, coming up behind her and pulling her arm to spin her towards him.

Nico simply stared, his mouth slightly ajar. Ciara wasn't particularly pretty. That was a fact. A fact that the catty girls of Camp Halfblood had seized onto with obvious glee.

But this girl, his friend standing in front of him was without a doubt the most heart twistingly beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Surely Aphrodite had come into the cabin for a spell or _something._ Nico's sharp intake of breath made Ciara's perfect lips twist downwards.

"You haven't even noticed my bloody wings."

Nico snapped back to reality, and pulled his eyes to Ciara's back. There they were. Two inky black wings, still damp with blood. But even though they were sodden, Nico's sharp eyes could still catch the blue and purple highlights of each feather.

Ciara sighed, her shoulders slumping. "So this is what Thanatos meant…"

Nico frowned. "What do you mean?"

Ciara didn't seem to hear him, but continued anyway. "He said that everything would become clear soon enough. He said that he needed to make me the way I was for a reason. Don't you see Nico? I'm not his daughter."

Nico didn't understand what she meant. Yes, of course she wasn't his daughter. Ciara had told them all so at the Big House on that fateful first day. "I know Ciara, he's not your father. You told us all, remember."

Ciara shook her head, exasperated by Nico's apparent idiocy. "No, you don't understand. I'm not his daughter. I'm his heir."

Nico didn't see the difference, but urged her to explain.

"Think about it. Why would Death need to have an heir? Not unless he knew that someone wanted him dead. Someone who was enough of a threat to him to make him scared and need a backup plan. That means that he was definitely murdered. And if someone wanted Thanatos dead, they'll probably want me dead as well…"

Ciara chewed on her lip as Nico rubbed his sore head, finally understanding what Ciara had meant. "Then you're in danger." He said matter of factly, as Ciara nodded slowly.

"We need to find the killer and get rid of them before they do the same to you…" Nico continued, trying to distract himself from the whirrings of his mind. After all, he privately thought, how could a demigod and a rookie primordial take on something that is powerful enough to kill Death?

They should start writing her eulogy now…

Pushing the dark thoughts away, Nico tried to focus on a different theory. "But Thanatos was very unpopular with well, everyone. Maybe someone just hated him enough to kill him out of spite."

Ciara considered this for a moment. Her mind flashed back to Mr. D's poisonous welcome to Thanatos, Thanatos's raw and passionate break down when Ciara blamed him for her curse. Was it possible? Suddenly a realization settled into the pit of her stomach.

The world hates Death.

She is Death.

Could she deal with that? Being universally hated just because of what she did to keep the world balanced? Or even worse, being welcomed by the dying, not because of who she was but because of what she brought.

Never being recognized and loved for who she was, ever. Could she even handle doing her job?

Ciara's eyes squeezed closed. No. No, she can't answer these questions, she has to _stay strong_. All those years ago… Gods. Gods, how easy it was for one incident to haunt someone forever. And if that one event still plagued her, how could she face taking lives every single day…?

Nico sensed her distress and wrapped his arms around her, careful not to restrict her new wings. Everyone knows how fragile bird bones are.

Slowly he led her out the door and to the Big House, shielding her best he could from the explosions of whispers from the campers they walked past.

Mr. D was sitting on the deck, playing pinochle with a few satyrs. Chiron was nowhere to be seen. As Nico and Ciara approached the god barely looked up. Upon spotting Ciara properly however, Mr. D actually stood, his vast belly shaking.

"Bonesy. Had a little makeover I see…" Mr. D adjusted his sunglasses and eyed Ciara with a distinct air of disdain. Ciara bristled, and even the feathers on her wings spiked up.

"Go suck another slime ridden pus filled carbuncle of malicious ooze you fat fuck."

For a moment, there was total silence.

Mr. D then took off his sunglasses and rubbed them on his shirt, eyeing Ciara with two eyes that sent shivers down her spine. They were black holes, filled with fire.

This, Ciara supposed was where she would be testing exactly what being "immortal" covered.

"There is a special place in Hades with your name on it, _Bonesy._ And you'll be there very very soon." Mr. D's voice was low and colder than ice. One of the satyrs couldn't take the tension and ducked under the table, sobbing softly.

Ciara folded her arms, acutely aware of how Nico was slowly creeping backwards. "You're right, _Dionysus._ It's called the fucking throne." The skies above growled with thunder as the two eyed each other up.

Suddenly, someone behind Ciara cleared their throat.

"I wouldn't count on that." Dionysus eased into a less aggressive stance, and slowly Ciara's head turned. A very tall, very pale man stood next to Nico, with one long fingered hand resting on the boy's shoulder. He was dressed completely in black, and the air around him crackled with power.

"Hades." Ciara said slowly, unsure if she should bow or stare him straight in the eye. In the end, she settled with staring at his forehead.

It was odd, looking up at someone. And it was not a feeling Ciara wanted to get used to.

"_Obviously_. Come." With one finger he beckoned Ciara and she stepped forward, instantly berating herself for it. Stopping a few feet away from Hades, she dared to drop her eyes to meet his. "Say the magic word."

Nico's eyes were full of silent warning, but Ciara chose to ignore him.

Hades gave her a worn look that Ciara had seen on perhaps a million tired parents' faces. "The world is ending. I do not have the time to humour a petulant primordial. Come here, or I will _make_ you come here." Slowly Ciara stepped forward until she was at his side.

Mr. D seemed ready to say something. But one look from Hades silenced the younger god. Next Hades turned his cold eyes to Ciara. It took all of her will power to not wither under his gaze.

"I have taken time out of governing the Underworld for this. Hopefully, for your sake you are a _very _fast learner." Not acknowledging his son in the slightest, Hades turned back to Mr. D, his voice aching with apathy.

"Dionysus. Your patience yet again has failed to blow me away. These two are coming with me. Do not expect them back any time soon."

The earth beneath the three of them yawned as Ciara yelped with fright, rather ruining Hades' plan for a dramatic exit. The eldest of the Olympians simply frowned in disapproval at the girl as they sank into the black.

**Review, tell me what you think and submit that character! Please, of course.**


	7. Assistants

**Disclaimer: Percy Jackson is owned by a man. I am not a man (I am indeed an octopus.) Therefore, I do not own Percy Jackson.**

**Hahaha… I had exams, and training at work, and lots of other boring reasons for why I couldn't update when I said I would… Anyway, more importantly the contest is still open, and you should enter *nudge nudge wink wink* or review this chapter even. Either's fine, but you MUST PICK ONE! **

**And AND AND have a look at this! .**

**I have fan art! Actual fan art! Thank you Dr. Theta, for the beautiful book cover, you're amazin'. And Miss-Li-Ding, I know that deep down, you love my clues. You love them with all of your heart ;) Especially this chapter's clue. It's going to blow you away. **

Chasing Butterflies

Ciara's eyes remained stubbornly squeezed shut as the three of them dropped through the earth. She could feel the earth crumbling and shifting to make way for them, and the only thought in her mind was that after this, she would never see elevators the same way again.

After a few of the l-o-n-g-e-s-t seconds of her life, Ciara felt cold hard stone that wasn't melting away under her feet. Cracking open an eyelid, Ciara gasped quietly. They were standing in front of a black castle, with hundreds of turrets that twisted upwards until they brushed the high ceiling, which dripped with inky black stalactites and were riddled with holes.

The darkness around them was punctured by hundreds of brightly burning fires, and every shadow contained the sad empty eyes of lost souls. Ciara shifted her weight to the other foot, as her wings fluttered nervously. She hated enclosed spaces. Enclosed spaces, and complete, utter darkness.

Oh yes. Living here was going to be _fun._

Hades' eyes rested on the instinctive way her wings echoed her emotions, and smiled, slow and coldly.

The god allowed her to stand there in silence for a few moments, before breaking the silence. "That is my palace. You live somewhere else." Ciara couldn't help a sigh of relief, and Hades' eyes narrowed.

However as the god was pressed for time, he simply glossed over her rudeness and started walking towards the huge front doors, not waiting for Ciara and Nico to follow.

"In the modern world, 1.8 people die every second. Every single one of those people comes to the underworld, where we sort them. However, you are not concerned with sorting souls. Your job is getting them here." Ciara nodded, and as Hades' quick strides hinted that there was not room for questions, she chose not to ask how you can have .8 of a person.

"The majority of souls can find their own way to the underworld, under normal circumstance. However, some souls that are conflicted, have not accepted their death, cannot escape their bodies or are simply lost need special attention. These are your "clients," as I understand it. You need to personally visit these souls, and guide them here to me. Understand?"

Ciara murmured a yes, and Hades continued. "I have not been told by Thanatos how he does this, it is up to your assistants to teach you that. However, it is imperative that you have learnt how to do so as soon as possible. At the very least, normal deaths need to start happening again by night fall. I will not tolerate failure."

Ciara finally found her voice again, as Hades' eyes flicked to her own for a second. "Alright… Who are these assistants? Where can I find them?" Hades shoes clicked a full 7 times against the black marble before he answered. "They are_ your_ assistants. I do not concern myself with their whereabouts. I am a busy god, and I have more important problems. You'll have to find them yourself. Their names escape me."

Ciara had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. How was she supposed to find them, if she knew nothing about them?

A door at the end of the hallway opened, attended by skeletons dressed in medieval knight armour. Hades strode through and Ciara followed, averting her eyes from the skeleton's hollow eye sockets. The room they'd entered was huge, and was dominated by a black throne that glittered in the flickering fire light.

Hades took a seat on his throne, instantly growing in size until he was over three metres tall. Ciara blinked in shock, and then chose to simply accept it.

At the same time, Hades' crisp black business suit shifted into a flowing black robe. The fabric seemed to flicker and flow of its own accord, but before Ciara could look closer, the door creaked open behind her. A quick patter of footsteps echoed through the throne room, and suddenly a painfully thin figure was standing in front of her, with a large bundle in its arms.

"Master!" It said excitedly. Ciara simply stared. The figure was a man, with wild black hair and eyes that glowed a bloody red and a mouth which was twisted with an evil grin. "Your things, master. We collected them we did. Thought you would need them master, us did. Will you reward us master?"

Ciara looked helplessly at Hades, who was regarding the situation playing out below him with distinct disdain. "Who are you?" Ciara asked, glancing at Nico, who had said nothing since leaving Camp. But before Nico could even shrug, the man answered. "I have no name master, there is only us, the Phonoi. As one I am Phonos!"

Nico mumbled something and Ciara's ears pricked to catch it. "Sons of Eris… spirits of murder and killing."

The Phonoi nodded eagerly. "Yes master! Our sisters, the Androktasiai are busy, so we brought your things from the old master!"

Ciara was suddenly very interested in what this babbling Phonos had to say. "Where did you find these things?"

"Australia, master! We found them in a house, next to the dead client!" Ciara took in this information and nodded. "Are you my assistant Phonos?"

The Phonos shook it's head rapidly. "Master, the honour is too great for us! We are the assistants of the Keres, who assist you!"

So, he was the assistant to her assistants… Ciara suddenly felt very important.

"Where are the Keres?"

"Waiting at your house Master! Where else would they be?"

Ciara looked up at Hades, and wondered why she had been brought here in the first place if Hades was going to simply sit there and watch this exchange with a threadbare curiosity. "Phonos, take me there."

The Phonos suddenly froze, and dropped its head. "I do not know where the Master lives Master."

Ciara's wings bristled with annoyance, something the Phonos noticed and cowered at. "B-but Master! I can take you to the Keres!"

"But they are at my house."

"Yes Master!"

"And you don't know where my house is."

"Yes Master! But I can take you to the Keres!"

"So you must know where my house is?"

"No Master! I can take you to the Keres, but I can't take you to your house."

"Then where are we going…?" Ciara asked, getting more confused by the second.

The Phonos, who was either extremely enthusiastic or just very excitable was impossible to dampen. Finally Hades cleared his throat. "Just. Go. _Please._ Your servant irks me."

Ciara nodded and took the Phonos' hand, and barely had time to wave to Nico before the throne room shimmered and disappeared.

The two of them were standing in front of a grey stone house, that was a patchwork between greek, Victorian and modern that somehow managed to still look pretty. There was no garden, only a black path leading to a black door, with a knocker in the same of a butterfly. The moment she stepped on the path Ciara instantly felt at ease, and she completely forgot about the fact that the house was every bit as underground as Hades' palace.

The door opened at her touch and inside on the hallway stood a woman, shorter than Ciara and dressed in deep red. Her hair was brown and coarse, and her golden eyes were empty of emotion. "Phonos. Place the things on the table, and leave us." The Phonos did her bidding and now completely sobered, gave Ciara a nod and left.

As the door clicked shut, the woman smiled, though the action didn't suit her – it looked more like a grimace. "You must be the girl. I am Anaplekte. One of the Keres, and your… predecessor's sister. You must have many questions."

Ciara nodded, but Anaplekte (a name Ciara couldn't even hope to mimic) raised a hand to silence her. "But first. Your name. What is it?"

Ciara dipped her her in embarrassment for a moment. "Ciara." Anaplekte smiled again, and Ciara's wingtips curled. The Ker noticed the action and her eyes took on a wry gleam. "You must learn Ciara to control your wings. They give away your emotions too easily. And your name is unsuitable. Choose another."

Ciara bristled. Her name was unsuitable? What was wrong with it? Ciara had always liked her name. Anaplekta sighed. "You do not have to do it now. But soon, before you visit Olympus, which you are inevitably going to have to do. Now, for your possessions."

Ciara glanced at the table. It was a red wood, that balanced out the cream and shiny metal of the room. The outside of the house was mismatched, but the inside was monotonous. It was nice and understated, which Ciara liked. But that was all it was nice. Lukewarm. It was a lack of tacky gold and fountains that made the house tolerable, not the presence of pretty things.

Ciara stepped over to the table and picked the bundle up, spreading it around on the table's glossy surface. A pair of boots. What looked like a notebook. A scythe blade, but when Ciara stroked the blade, a handle slid out from one end. Finally there was a black watch that seemed to be frozen.

Anaplekte waited patiently as Ciara pored over the things, but as the Ker had a more keen sense of time than the new Primordial, she finally cleared her throat after a few moments. "Which one should I explain first?" She asked.

Ciara picked up the boots, figuring that they would have the shortest explanation. Anaplekte seemed surprised by her choice, but let it slide. "All of Thanatos' clothing was designed to be protective. You see, a god can be hurt by another god. As no one particularly liked Thanatos, he needed clothing that would prevent his injury. His cloak – that he usually changed into a jacket – made him almost invincible. His boots… I believe those allowed him to walk on air, water, fire, and the like."

Ciara suddenly felt a sense of dread. Back in the cabin, hung at the end of her bed… was Thanatos' jacket.

Had she…

Had she gotten him killed?

Why had Thanatos felt the need to protect her?

Anaplekte seemed to read her expression like a book. "Thanatos' jacket isn't there. I'll send a Androktasia, one of the Phonoi's sisters to get your things. I recommend that you wear it from now on. After all… you've inherited enemies."

Ciara gave Anaplekte a hard look, but the Ker merely flipped her hair and pointed to the notebook. "That's Thanatos' book of appointments. Open it."

Ciara obliged, and to her surprise the "notebook" was not filled with creamy pages but instead was a small touch computer screen. As her pale fingertip brushed the glass the notebook flickered into life. The screen was flooding with names, and the words "frozen until further notice" flashed for a moment before they disappeared.

Anaplekte, who had suddenly appeared next the Ciara's shoulder growled under her breath. "Usually it will alert you of that day's appointments, any back logs and anything else you decide to plan."

Ciara snapped the notebook shut and placed it gently back on the table. "So… it's a death dayplanner?"

"Yes." Anaplekte said, completely deadpan, and killing any hope of Ciara cracking a joke.

The scythe was Thanatos' weapon if needed, and could cut through anything that obstructed him from a client. The moment Ciara picked it up; she understood what Nico had said about a sword feeling "right." Of course none of the swords had felt right; they were the completely wrong weapon!

The watch was the companion piece to the notebook, it counted down the time to the appointment. The watch could pause time for a short time and slow it down, Anaplekte explained. However, as per Kronos' wishes, with the watch time could not be sped up or reversed. Anaplekte explained that the watch was currently frozen as all of Death's appointments had been put on hold.

Over all, at the end of Anaplekte's tutorial on what exactly her tools of the trade were, Ciara felt that secret agents were completely overrated.

About twenty minutes had passed, and Anaplekte kept checking her watch nervously. Of course, Ciara couldn't be sure of the time as the light outside the house hadn't changed at all, since there was no sun light.

"Are you late for something?" Ciara asked, playing with a buckle on the black leather boots. Anaplekte's head snapped up, she had sunk into a sleek plastic chair,eyelids drooping. "No. I have nothing to be late for, as long as you aren't working. It's just… I believe that you are expecting a visitor at some stage. And that Phonos… did you promise him a reward?" Her voice at the end rose hopefully, as her fingers laced together on her crossed legs.

Ciara shook her head. "I haven't, should I give him one?" Anaplekte grinned like a jack o lantern. "If you do, tell him it must be a quick one. At least five. Extremely agonising. You promise?" Ciara's eyes narrowed. What was the reward she was offering?

Then she remembered Nico's words… The Phonoi were spirits of murder. Did that mean…?

"What are you the god of exactly Anaplekte?"

"Quick, painful death." Ciara swallowed, as Anaplekte smoothed down the crinkles on her dress.

"You of course realize what his reward is don't you? One, successful serial killer. At least 3 victims, though 5 would be generous. It must have been difficult to find those items after all, in Australia in the middle of the night…" Ciara's eyes widened.

"In the middle of the night you say?"

"Yes. But anyway, about that serial killer, quick and painful death is really the best way. After all, I've taken time out, unlike my sisters…"

But Ciara had tuned out from Anaplekte's sick pleas. Grabbing the notebook she flicked it on, and turned it back to completed appointments. Ironically, it seemed that the gods' technology mimicked that of mortals, and the device wasn't difficult to master.

Completed Appointments only carried one week's worth of history, and at the top of the list in the "Most recent" spot was:

Alice Pemberton, 47yrs 2 mnths 6 dys, Sydney, Australia, 2.17 am (local time), suicide.

It seemed odd to Ciara to kill yourself in the middle of the night. But not even bothering to shrug, she flicked to "Overdue appointments."

The oldest was:

Richard Gast, 0yrs 3mnths, 1 dys, London, Britain, 1.45pm (local time), cot death

The appointment tugged at Ciara's heartstrings, but… there was 10 hours time difference between Britain and Australia. Ciara didn't know how she knew this, but just knew that it was right. Therefore, it was 12.17pm in Britain when Alice's soul was taken. So that meant a window of an hour and half between Thanatos' last completed appointment and his next due one.

So why were his things found in Australia?

Ciara barely had time to ponder this new information before Anaplekte clicked her fingers obnoxiously. "Hey. _Hey._ So, will you let me and the Phonoi get a reward on this one or what?"

Ciara blinked, unsure of what the Ker was talking about. Then she remembered, serial killer, at least three victims…

"Is it really within my jurisdiction to say so…? I mean, all I do is take souls. Hades said nothing about deciding when people die."

Anaplekte's lip twisted. "Just say. Yes. Or No."

Ciara's fingers danced on the table uncertainly, as she gazed at the light above her head. Was it electric? It appeared to be, but where could the light possibly get its power?

"I don't know."

"Just decideeeee!" Anaplekte whined. "I've done so much! It's not my joooob to teach you, the brat big brother never shut up about! Just decide! You owe meeeeee." Anaplekte whined, her lips twisting into a pout. Ciara's wings began to flutter angrily.

"I am your new boss. Do not use that tone with me." Ciara snarled.

"NO. Thanatos was my boss. You are just a whiny scrap of elevated mortal flesh; I will not answer to you. You can't even do your job!" Anaplekte smirked, stretching out on the chair like a self righteous house cat.

"_It's your job to teach me how to do my job!_" Ciara snapped. "I will NOT reward you. It doesn't seem like it's my place to decide whether to unleash another sicko on the world or not!"

Anaplekte leapt to her feet and went to the door, yanking it open so fiercely that the hinges shrieked loudly. "It doesn't matter whether you should or not. The Moirae hate you anyway! Why should you care about them? All we want is a little fuuuuuuuun!"

Anaplekte's eyes flashed angrily for a moment and dug into Ciara like knives, before the childish Ker slammed the door shut. The door rattled in place, and plaster dust drifted down from the ceiling.

Ciara took the seat Anaplekte had been sitting in a moment before, and sank her head into her hands. Oh gods. Less than a day on the job, and her assistant, her assistant's assistant and perhaps the entire world was already criticizing her work ethic.

Of course she hadn't actually worked yet but… still.

Before Ciara could even begin to wallow, there was a slow knock on the door.

_Rappa tap tap._

Was Anaplekte already apologizing? Well, Ciara was tired, claustrophobic and still shocked over the death of a brother,father and friend all rolled into one.

"Go away. I'm not in the mood to see you again." She mumbled, her shoulders shaking like a leaf with pent up tears. She just wanted to cry and grieve, why couldn't she just get to do that? Just for five minutes? It was beginning to look as if the only peace she'd get would be in dreams.

"But I don't believe we've ever met." A male voice answered. It was young, and slow. The god (for it surely was one) sounded exhausted.

"When why would I let you into my house?" Ciara said, already getting up to peek out of a window near the door to see her visitor.

"Because, I'm here to visit you." He answered, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. "So open up," He prompted.

Ciara was not one for letting random men into her house. That, coupled with the fact that she was in danger from a shady someone who wanted Death to say dead made her wary.

"Visit me to do what?"

"Say hi. You know. The like. Introduce myself." The man yawned loudly. "Come onnnn let me in! I'm too tired to blow your house down." He whined loudly.

Amused by the reference, Ciara cracked open the door and instantly the god stepped inside. He was tall, around 6ft 4 or so. His hair was blond and his eyes were a dark blue, although Ciara could barely tell the colour since his eyelids were almost closed.

He kicked the door shut with one foot and waved lazily at Ciara. "Hey. I'm Hypnos. Where's your couch?"

Ciara simply blinked, slightly surprised. However, before she could explain that she'd only actually seen the hallway of her house Hypnos was padding down the hall.

Following him, Ciara was simply speechless as he stepped into what had to be the living room (and yes, the irony made her smile) and espied a large, soft black suede couch. Before Ciara could say a word, Hypnos had flopped onto it, and fallen asleep.

"Well… ok then." Ciara mumbled, taking a seat on a plastic chair.

_Thanks for leaving some room for _me_ on that couch sleepyhead._

**If you like, review! (and submit a character) If you don't like, don't review than I'll cry and yell "I SEE HOW IT IS!" **


	8. Mint Icecream

**Disclaimer: Can you guess what's in my pocket? That's right! A lack of ownership of Percy Jackson.**

**I updated on time :D Please, ladies and gentlemen, hold your applause. And prepare for a whole summer of this level of organization! Competition is still open, and reviews make me write faster and therefore much more likely to update on time. Just sayin'.**

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><p><span>Chasing Butterflies<span>

Ciara fidgeted in her seat, twirling her long hair between two fingers. Hypnos rolled over in his sleep, his breathing shallow and slow.

There was a god asleep on her couch.

A very good looking god.

Ciara crossed her legs and sighed loudly. She had sat still for nearly half an hour now. Perhaps she could instead look around the house, because although Hypnos' blonde hair and pure white wings were alluring, they couldn't hold her attention forever.

As Ciara lifted herself out of her chair quietly as she could, Hypnos' breathing started to deepen. When she reached the stairs (made of clear plastic, which gave Ciara a giddy sense of excitement) Hypnos shifted in his sleep, making the couch creak softly.

"I'm flattered."

Ciara whipped around, eyes wide. Hypnos was sitting upright, picking imaginary specks of dirt off his fitted black t-shirt. "W-what?" she stammered, annoyance slowly rising in her as she realized that he must have been awake this entire time.

"There aren't very many gods that will leave another god unattended within their own home. How very trusting you are." Hypnos grinned, stretching his tanned arms until the muscles were pulled tight. "It's quite adorable, actually."

Ciara blinked in shock. Her? Adorable? There was a first for everything, she supposed.

Hypnos laughed at her lack of words, and stood up, crossing the light gold floor to stand in front of her, leaning on the stair railing. "I can see why my brother took care of you," He whispered, staring straight into her eyes. Ciara swallowed, suddenly finding her voice.

"Why are you here?" She said, taking half a step back to get away from his cloying scent. It made her dangerously drowsy.

"Honestly? I thought that we should know each other. Thanatos was my twin, after all. Big brother _was _mother's favourite and the prodigal son." Hypnos' fingers tapped a rhythm on the railing, as he stared out the window, seeing something beyond the black. Suddenly he smiled.

"But now he's gone, and here you are. What is your name? I don't believe I caught it." Hypnos' eyes flicked back to Ciara's, trapping them with an intensity that made Ciara's wings flutter.

"Ciara… My name is Ciara." Ciara's eyes dropped to avoid his gaze. She… she was acting so stupid! She'd talked to hot boys before. Dated them even. Of course they tended to prove to her why she shouldn't, because none of them hit that perfect balance that every girl searches for.

But Hypnos… something about the way he leant in and caught her eyes, was making her nervous. Something in the power of his gaze made her want to turn away. Especially since his eyes were now wide open and wide awake, focussed on her and the quiet quiver of her wings. "Pretty," Hypnos said his eyes on her feathers. His own wings were stock still, betraying nothing.

Ciara couldn't help but smile. "Anaplekte says I have to change it…" Suddenly there was a reedy beep. Pulling away from Hypnos' eyes Ciara ran to the hallway and scooped up the notebook. The screen had lit up and the words 'Hades would like normal deaths to commence in 5 mins' flashed across the screen.

Hypnos' slow steps echoed down the hall until he stood beside her, almost touching her shoulder. "Do you know how?" He asked, and Ciara shook her head.

"Okay. You're a rookie, so for now you can rely on your gadgets. One day you'll be able to do it instinctively. Pick up the watch."Ciara followed his instructions, cupping the black watch in her palm.

"There are five buttons on the side. Press the top one, then the middle, then the fourth and second buttons at the same time." Ciara did as he instructed, barely aware of his arm hooked around her shoulders.

"Now, on the other side, there is a small black knob. Wind it clockwise three times."

Ciara's narrow long fingers found the tiny knob after a few seconds, and once she'd done that, her eyes flicked to Hypnos, awaiting further instructions. Hypnos cleared his throat. "Now press the middle button again and say 'Commence regular deaths.'" Ciara did as he said and the notebook lying on the table flicked to life. "Programme now unfrozen. Special appointments on hold. Mundane deaths in progress." The notebook flashed one last time, then went dark.

The watch was still frozen, but Ciara strapped the watch to her wrist anyway, because the light weight was comforting. Hypnos had unwound his arm from Ciara's shoulders, and was now leaning against the cream hallway wall.

Ciara cleared her throat, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "How did you know how to do that?"

Hypnos' lips opened ready with an explanation, but it died on his lips. His eyes flicked upwards to the right, staring at a window. They seemed to glitter with pain for a moment, before Hypnos clasped his hands together and stared down at the floor. "My brother and I were close…" He said softly, as Ciara's cheeks burned.

How insensitive of her! He had lost Thanatos as well. He was mourning too, and she was reminding him of unnecessary pain… Ciara sighed softly, reaching out to brush Hypnos' drooped shoulder before her fingers dropped away back to her side. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything."

Hypnos looked up, and reached out, clasping her thin shoulder with one hand, pulling her into her chest. Ciara was frozen with surprise at the sudden close contact. He was so warm, and she could feel his muscles under the thin fabric of his shirt… Ciara almost blushed, before remembering that SHE, Ciara Morris, never, ever _blushed._

"Don't ask me about him, ok?" Hypnos breathed, the breath hitching slightly in his throat. Ciara nodded into his chest, and Hypnos grinned, resting his chin on her shoulder. He would have liked to rest it on top of her head, but the girl was too damn tall. After a few seconds Ciara pulled away, pushing her hair from her eyes.

"Hypnos, how do you make everyone fall asleep?" The god was surprised by the sudden question, but took it into stride. "It's a lot like death. Except that I like to be on location for large groups – for example when dusk comes in one part of the world, I go there because when I am near something, my power is stronger. And some cases I have to be there. You can feel your power working, can't you?"

Ciara was taken back at his question, but he was right. Somewhere inside her she could feel souls slipping away from their bodies. It was like a constant awareness in the back of her mind, as automatic as breathing.

Hypnos smiled, recognizing her reaction as a yes. "It's the same for me. I can feel everyone sleeping. You know actually, I'm hungry. Have you got any food?" Hypnos padded down the hallway, but instead of turning into the living room he turned left and opened a black door. As the door yawned open Ciara caught a glimpse of a kitchen that glittered with chrome.

It seemed odd to her to have a kitchen. After all, did gods even eat? Hypnos, who was rummagaing through her fridge seemed to think that yes, gods require sustenance.

Clearly unhappy with Thanatos' selection, Hypnos turned to the freezer. "Haha!" He exclaimed, pulling down a bowl of what looked like light green sludge. Next Hypnos grabbed two spoons, before carrying his prize into the living room and flopping onto the couch.

Hypnos pointedly patted the cushion beside him and Ciara perched beside him. At least perching was her intention, but the couch was soft as a cloud and within seconds she was lounging, her hip nestled against Hypnos' leg. He gave her a silver spoon, holding onto her fingers a fraction longer than necessary.

"You know something Ciara?" Hypnos said softly.

"Of course. Octopi have nine brains, for example. That is something I know." Ciara smiled. Of course she knew what he meant, but that phrase irked her. You know something? Or course I know something you idiot. The question is, _do you?_

"No… I didn't mean trivia. Your eyes are the exact shade of mint ice cream." Ciara simply stared at Hypnos, looking for the joke. She… looks like ice cream? What was that supposed to mean?

"I've just never seen anything quite like it. Did your mortal self have the same eyes, or did you choose them?" Hypnos asked, lifting a spoonful of green stuff to his lips.

"You… you can choose what you look like?" Ciara asked, lifting a hand to her face, brushing her smooth cheek. Hypnos grinned. "Don't tell me you accidentally look like that. How did you imagine that face? Come on. You can tell me." Ciara forgot herself, and blushed.

"I didn't imagine it! I've always had my face. It changed when this morning of course, but not very much… Just enough to make me pretty." Hypnos nodded, his blue eyes drifting off. "Aren't you going to have any?" He suddenly asked, gesturing to the bowl.

Ciara pulled herself upright. Somehow she had ended up against Hypnos' shoulder, without even noticing. "…What is it?" She asked, flipping the spoon in her hands nervously. Her wings had folded up tightly against her back once she'd sat down, but if they'd been open, Hypnos would have put money on the chance that the feathers would be pricked up and shaking.

"Mint ice cream," Hypnos said, dipping his spoon back into the bowl. "It was Thanatos' favourite."

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><p>"Come on Ciara. Just do it." Hypnos urged, his hand lightly resting on Ciara's shoulder.<p>

"It… It just doesn't feel right!"

"Trust me. You won't regret this."

"But what if it gets stuck?"

"It won't! It'll slide in and out so easily that you'll feel silly for thinking that it would get stuck in the first place."

"Will it hurt?"

"No one's ever complained as far as I'm aware."

"And it's quick?"

"I suppose it usually is."

Ciara hugged Thanatos' jacket closer to her, grateful to the Phonos that had laid it out beside the door sometime during Hypno's visit. "Okay then. But I'm holding you to your word."

The two of them were standing on the edge of a grisly car crash scene, poised at the yellow tape until Ciara worked up the nerve to step through. Hypnos' flimsy moral support worked its magic and Ciara ducked under the tape, barely listening to the mad rush around her.

There was glass all over the road, splattered with bright red droplets. The two cars were now twisted hunks of metal, warping the reflections of the police and ambulance sirens. The paramedics were standing anxiously to the side as the firemen prepared to operate the Jaws of Life on one of the cars. Ciara wished that she could be visible to them, so she could tell them that their efforts were in vain.

The car door was too mangled to open, so Ciara pulled out her scythe from a holster on her side and sliced the door open. The curled up form of the driver was inside.

She could have been sleeping.

Her eyes were closed, and she was barely breathing. Her blonde hair fell across her eyes, and her red shirt disguised the extent of her injuries. A trail of blood dripped down her brow, as her heart beat slower and slower.

She was no more than fifteen.

Ciara swallowed and reached out to touch the girl's chest. She had taken off the gloves – Hypnos had told her that Thanatos had made them for her mortal body, and now they would be useless. And as her bare skin brushed the girl's, Ciara could feel the thinness of the surface. It was like touching a pool of water, the temptation of pushing deeper was right there, and too easy.

Ciara took a deep, shuddering breath and then shoved her hand into the girl's chest. Instead of meeting with flesh and bone, Ciara's fingers slid through the body easily, like a knife through butter. Her fingers touched something silky and soft, and grasping it she tugged.

But it wasn't coming free.

Panicking, Ciara heaved harder until the soul finally was pulled free of its body. It was a pearly gray, and the edges were ragged. The body took one last breath, and then finally died.

Hypnos' breath tickled her ear, as he inspected her work. "You ripped it…" He said quietly.

Ciara's heart skipped a beat as she looked down. Sure enough there was a small rip in the soul, less than an inch long, but to Ciara it may as well have been a mile.

"You have to be gentle, Ciara. A rip in the soul is the most painful thing a being can experience… Ciara gasped in horror, staring down at her hands in disgust. Hypnos patted her shoulder awkwardly. "It would be best if you mended it. A rip in the soul usually indicates an evil personality. It occurs naturally when you do a truly evil deed." Hypnos swallowed quietly, but Ciara didn't notice.

Gently taking the two sides of the rip, Ciara pressed them together and ran her finger along it. The places her finger touched melded instantly. Hypnos nodded in approval. "Okay. Now, just put it in your pocket. Your next appointment is in two hours, can you get there alright? I think I showed you clearly enough… I have to go. It's almost nightfall, and I have work to do." Hypnos said slowly, and by the time Ciara turned around, he was gone.

It felt strange to put a person into her pocket, but Ciara did as Hypnos had instructed, before dropping her arms back to her sides, standing in the middle of the scene with no idea of where to go next.

There was a yell behind her as the mortal firemen cut the car open with their glorified can opener. She watched their faces as they saw the girl's body. Sadness, and then simply acceptance. Another day on the job, another body. Ciara had no idea of where she was, simply that she was in a large city at an intersection where the motorway met with a large road.

Death must occur here too often to be a surprise anymore. Ciara almost made a mental note to remember this intersection for the future, but it seemed too macabre.

So instead of memorizing her surroundings she turned, closing her eyes. Hypnos had taught her that her wings could transport her anywhere. Not necessarily by flying, but by thought. All she had to do was concentrate on where she wanted to go, and she'd get there. Hypnos had also advised her to keep her eyes closed while she travelled, because the world would zip by at an alarming rate.

Of course, Ciara had naturally ignored this advice.

But where to now? She had two hours until her next appointment, as her watch informed her. Ciara barely had to think, because the answer seemed obvious. To Nico, and then to find out who wanted her dead.

Closing her eyes, Ciara focussed. Nico. Nico Nico Nico…

The moment she felt herself moving Ciara's eyes opened, her heart dropping to the soles of her boots when she saw dirt rushing past her face.

Oh, he had to still be with his father. _Spectacular._

Squeezing her eyes shut to not watch the dirt move to accommodate her, Ciara only opened her eyes when she felt herself stop. Opening her pale eyes, she was slightly surprised to be in Hades' throne room. The god himself looked distinctly uninterested, but Ciara was beginning to doubt that it was physically possible for Hades to be impressed. The world would probably implode if he ever was.

Nico stood beside his father, and clearly Ciara had interrupted an earnest discussion. Well, at least Nico had been talking. Hades seemed to have just been existing in the same location.

"You are new, so I will let this transgression slide. But in future, do not randomly materialize in my throne room without warning. It's rude." Hades said, his black eyes focussed on Ciara and the jacket. "You've been working, I assume?" He said tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Ciara nodded. "Deaths are happening again, and I've collected a soul."

Hades raised an eyebrow. "One soul. That's… it?"

"Yeah. I mean, yes sir. I don't know how to do appointments that are overdue…" Hades sighed loudly. "Well, go ask someone. Because we can't have mortals thinking that they're invincible. Why are you here, besides to report your mediocre progress?"

Ciara's eyes narrowed, but with much effort, she kept her wings almost completely still. If Hypnos could do it, so could she. "I want to talk to Nico."

Hades seemed surprised by her request, but waved a hand as his son who was already walking towards Ciara, clearly happy to see her. "Take him. I have business to attend to. Don't bother me again unless you have something important to tell me." Ciara badly wanted to tell him that mundane deaths that didn't require her assistance happening again was important, but his sharp gaze had already silently dismissed the two of them.

As Ciara followed Nico out of the throne room, he spoke to her in hushed whispers. What was it like? Was she handling it? How had she worked it out?

Her recount of what had happened almost made Nico facepalm, particularly the part where she let a stranger into her house, and then almost left him alone.

"Someone wants you _dead_ Cici. That means you shouldn't trust random strangers!" Nico said loudly, as Ciara took his hand. "Hypnos can be trusted. I just know it! Anyway can we please go to my house, because the whole souls hiding in the shadows thing is creeping me out." Ciara mumbled, casting her eyes around at the shadows, which flickered of their own accord.

Nico agreed and she teleported them both to her living room. Nico looked around incredulously. "Someone's learnt a new skill." He mumbled, grinning and shaking his black hair from his eyes. Ciara smiled sheepishly in response, and collapsed onto the couch. Nico sat down beside her, and smiled. "I think I like your pad better than my father's." The lack of "Dad" made the sentence's mix of slang jar against Ciara's ears but she knew more than to question it. Nico and Hades were not close. That was blatantly obvious.

"So, how are we gonna do this?" Nico asked, pulling Ciara back to the present and out of her day dreams. Hypnos… The way he got so close to her, his hand brushing her arm…

"_Ciara!_" Ciara snapped back properly this time, as Nico sighed. "We're discussing the person who wants to kill you! I think that deserves attention!" Ciara meekly nodded.

"Okay, the way I see it, the first thing we need to do is talk to the people he would have trusted. They would surely know who he had a particularly big beef with." Nico said, already taking over the logical side of their self appointed investigation.

"So who do we start with?" Nico asked, tapping his fingers on the arm of the couch thoughtfully.

Ciara thought for a moment. "Well, it's pretty obvious isn't it?" She suddenly said, staring at Nico pointedly.

"No, not really. Who are you thinking of?" He said, sighing as Ciara looked disappointed. Clearly he had expected him to keep him with the break neck pace her mind operated at.

"Well, it is. Kind of. We should start with the person he logically would have trusted most."

"…I told you to tell me who. And yes, that is obvious. But who is that?"

"Nico, _think_ about it. Thanatos didn't really have friends. He wouldn't confide in Hades, cause your dad's not really the type. So that leaves his family. And the best person to start with, is Nyx." Ciara said, as Nico finally caught up.

"So you're going to interview Nyx? How do you know where she is?"

"I don't. But I'll find out. But I'll do that tomorrow. Do you want something to eat?"

Nico's stomach rumbled, almost perfectly on cue. "Yes. What do you have?"

"Mint ice cream. That's pretty much it."

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><p><strong>Ok, that's it for this chapter. So review, cause you know you want to. I deserve it… don't I? :D<strong>


	9. Perfection

**Disclaimer: If I owned Percy Jackson… Wow, what a question. Pity I can't answer it, because I don't own it and it will only lead to heartbreak if I try. :'(**

**Competition is open until I've published chapter ten I've decided. This is chapter eight, in case you hadn't noticed. Again, I updated on time and I believe this warrants a reward for my incredible organizational skillz. **

**Oh by the way Miss – Li – Ding… CHALLENGE WAS ALREADY ACCEPTED.**

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><p><span>Chasing Butterflies<span>

The first thing that Ciara began to hate about her job was the irregular work hours. It had seemed like she'd spent merely moments with Nico before her watch began to obnoxiously _beep_, alerting her to her next appointment.

She had growled and whined about the interruption for a few seconds, before digging out the notebook and teleporting to the client, leaving a hapless Nico on her couch. The rest of her night had been spent zipping across the world to clients at a breakneck pace. Amsterdam to Zurich, New York to Nairobi. From a horrible freak accident with a rubber band, to a terminal patient slipping away in his sleep. The moment she took out a soul, another ten appointments would crop up in its place.

This was the second thing Ciara began to hate. The backlog that Thanatos had created. At some point the notebook had taken it upon itself to simply remove the barrier between backlog and due appointment. What a passive aggressive piece of technology.

Hours later, Ciara had materialized into her living room and flopped onto the couch, already asleep by the time her head hit the soft suede cushion. Nico got the shock of his life when her torso hit him in the head, but his girlish squeal didn't awaken her.

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><p>Morning is impossible to tell in the Underworld.<p>

With the lack of sunlight and alarm clocks, Ciara was completely unsure about the time when she awoke. Then again, she wasn't sure about what part of the world she was under – it could be noon in Australia or midnight in L.A. Either way, Nico's morning stretch smacking her in the nose was enough to wake her up, no matter what the time was.

"Good morning," Nico yawned, shaking the hair from his eyes. Ciara was silent, as she gingerly touched her nose and wondered at whether she was invulnerable to demigod attacks or not.

"How can you tell?" Ciara finally asked. Nico was already off the couch and padding over to the ajar kitchen door. Nico had never really been a morning person, and tended to not register questions until he had either eaten or heard the clock strike noon.

Ciara swung herself off the couch and followed him, slightly blinded by the flash and glitter of chrome and white inside the kitchen. Nico seemed hardly bothered as he squinted into her fridge, before taking out a dubious looking hunk of oozing cheese.

"Nico." Ciara said, brushing his shoulder. Nico turned slowly, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand. "Yugh?" He grunted, opening a drawer and digging around for a knife. Ciara, having dealt with stupid accidents all night pushed him away from the drawer and fished out a kitchen knife for him herself.

"How do you know that it's morning?" Ciara asked, slicing Nico a thick yellow piece. The cheese shivered for a moment before reluctantly splitting. Ciara chose to ignore this remarkably uncheeselike behaviour.

"Eight of the fires outside have been lit," Nico said, now on a quest for bread. Ciara turned to the kitchen window, peering out at the front lawn. Sure enough there was a row of twenty four torches, and eight of them had been lit. She was suddenly overcome with questions as to who lit the torches, and whether this was a universal method in the Underworld for telling the time. Before she could ask Nico cackled with delight as he drew out what was probably a loaf of bread from a nearby cupboard. Then again, it equally could have been a furry alien life form. Ciara silently decided that it would be best if she went grocery shopping sometime soon.

"Nico you can't eat this stuff, you'll die." Ciara said, as Nico pried apart two slices of bread and slapped the slice of cheese between them. "Oh c'mon. You wouldn't let me!" Nico said dryly, as he lifted the slightly green, mostly blue sandwich to his lips.

As soon as it became clear that Nico was actually going to eat his sickening creation, Ciara slapped the sandwich from his hands and threw it at the window. The sandwich hit it with a resounding thud and then slowly slid down the glass, and Ciara could have sworn that she could hear a tiny voice squeal "Freeeeeeeedooooooooommmmmmm!"

Nico stared at his empty hands, and gave Ciara a heartbroken, completely betrayed look. "But… I'm hungry."

Ciara simply stared at him.

After three seconds, it was clear that Nico was actually serious.

_Boys._ Ciara thought with disdain. After glancing around the kitchen, she increased the thought to _Bachelor gods._ Was Hypnos this disgusting?

She'd never realized that Thanatos was the type to believe that 'if you can catch it, you can eat it.' How eye opening. At the bottom of the cupboard Nico had opened was a cucumber with what looked like… tentacles. That moved.

Ciara chose not to point out this to Nico, because the cucumber looked pretty slow.

"Ok. Let's get something to eat then…" Ciara mumbled, not needing to glance into the fridge to know that there was almost certainly nothing edible there. Nico instantly perked up at the thought of being fed, and as Ciara took his hand and closed her eyes, she pictured a place where food is always at the very least edible.

For a few moments the two of them could hear the rush and roar of moving dirt in their ears before finally, both were standing on firm ground. Opening one eye Ciara glanced around. The two of them were standing in the mouth of an alleyway, sandwiched between a tower of cardboard boxes and a rusted metal door.

Moss crawled along the cracks in the pavement and the air was permeated with the thick smell of garbage. Next to them a glass bottle wobbled as a thin cat strutted past, barely giving the two teens a second glance.

Nico pulled at the collar of his beloved aviator's jacket before looking around. "Ciara! Where are you?"

Ciara's brow furrowed as she tapped Nico's shoulder lightly. "I'm right here," She said, her voice tinted with confusion. Nico was staring straight at her!

Nico sighed. "I'm not playing games, I'm starved! Where are – Oh my gods you're invisible." Ciara's skinny jeans brushed against a cardboard box and slowly the tower began to sway precariously, but Nico only saw the boxes start to move apparently of their own accord.

"I can't be invisible. How would you know I was invisible if you can't see me?" Ciara said, only realizing the stupidity of her statement after the words left her mouth.

Nico muffled a laugh, before reaching out and feeling around for Ciara's hand. "If I could see you, you wouldn't be invisible. Now, become visible." Ciara grasped his hand tightly, surprised to find that her had didn't go through it like whenever she touched a person's chest. "I don't know how." She mumbled.

"But you spent hours yesterday finding out how to be Thanatos! You only came back for me about twelve hours after you left!"

Ciara chuckled nervously. Most of those twelve hours hadn't been spent learning how to be a good Death god…

Hypnos wasn't a very good teacher, but he made up for it with enthusiasm.

They'd spent the whole afternoon eating most of the mint ice cream, and then he'd told her about his job, about Thanatos and him as children… Hypnos was the second son, and had idolized his brother as a child. As twins they had been particularly close, and Thanatos always knew what to do, how to do it and why that was so, and Hypnos had always followed his brother's lead.

It had been interesting to learn that even gods were children once.

Did that mean that they aged as well? Or did they stop ageing after a certain point? Should Olympus in fact be named Neverland, since the gods possessed eternal youth and beauty? Hypnos had snidely said that it should, because the Olympians had the mental capacities and maturity of a three year old.

In short, Ciara had absolutely no idea why she was invisible, or how to stop being so. She had been visible to Nico in the Underworld, was it possible that she could just never be able to be seen in the Mortal world? But that was stupid, and untrue. She had seen Thanatos before as a mortal. Therefore, she could become visible again to Nico. It was just a question of how.

Ciara closed her eyes, and focussed on becoming blindingly obvious. She was visible, the centre of attention, everyone and everything wanted to look at her and it was unfair to try and prevent them from seeing her.

She opened her eyes, looked into Nico's and… nothing. He still couldn't see her.

Growling, she fiddled with the zip on her jacket. Hypnos had also told her that she could change its form to whatever she chose – trenchcoat, motorcycle jacket, hoodie, cloak, anything. But keeping it the exact same way that Thanatos had worn it just felt… right.

As she slowly unzipped the jacket, Nico gasped quietly with surprise. "Oh. There you are." He said, letting go of her hand a split second later.

What?

Ciara zipped up the jacket again, and instantly Nico asked why the hell she was playing with him like this when he was really hungry and just wanted food. However, the moment she unzipped the jacket slightly, viola. There she is, visible in not-so-broad daylight.

However, Nico wasn't impressed.

"Cool party trick Cici. Now c'mon I'm gonna die of hunger soon!" Ciara simply giggled and together the two of them stepped out of the alleyway. Opposite them was a sprawling food court, peppered with fast food stores and salted with benches. Nico's stomach growled right on cue.

However, before the two of them went any further, Ciara had a dreadful realization that made her heart drop to her boots. Daylight. Mortals. The huge wings sprouting out of her back. No one had glanced their way, but Ciara could feel the sunlight dancing on her feathers.

Fold them. This seemed the obvious option, but Ciara didn't know how. Her wings had always been instinctive, like breathing. The moment she thought about them, she couldn't move them. Just thinking a command wouldn't work, because she had no idea how to actually do it!

Slinking back into the alleyway before she was spotted, Nico gave her a puzzled look. "Are you suddenly shy…?" Nico asked, confusion curling his voice in a question mark. "My wings," Ciara hissed, as Nico's eyes widened.

"Fold them!"

"I don't know how!"

Nico ran his hand down his face, his black hair falling into his eyes. "Just do it! _Quickly!_"

Ciara flexed her shoulders, and felt unfamiliar muscles stir. After a few seconds of guess and check, she could get her wings to flutter weakly. Nico's foot began to tap a frenzied beat as Ciara's face wrinkled in concentration. Two minutes, five minutes, ten minutes… finally! At last, Ciara worked out the opposite motion to flapping, and curled her wings in until they were nestled against her spine, underneath the jacket and hidden from sight. Some other time, she would puzzle at how the jacket had allowed her wings to pass through, if it had no slits or holes.

Nico was obviously relieved when Ciara stepped out again, and grabbed her hand, dragging her towards the stall with the smallest line. After three obviously agonising minutes for Nico, they were at the front of the queue. A slug of a man headed the till and blinked at them with small, watery blue eyes.

"Place your order, we ein't got all day," He said, pulling at his too tight uniform shirt. Nico ordered two breakfast burgers and a large black coffee, and Ciara asked for anything that wouldn't crawl off the tray.

The man gave Ciara a filthy look, and told them that "That will be $7.80, and have a nice day." Ciara then turned to Nico expectantly. "Come on Nico. Pay the man."

Nico dug around in his pockets, and pulled out a piece of string and a bent and battered Mythomagic card. Ciara sighed, and dug into her pockets, before remembering that the only thing she had on her was about 200 souls.

The man watched this exchange with little interest until Ciara placed her hands on the counter, prepared to try and use her godly powers.

Lifting one hand, she waved it slowly in front of the man's face, while sliding the piece of string (Nico didn't want to give up the card) over the counter. "This _is_ the money you're looking for."

The man picked up the string and placed it into the till, before rolling his eyes. "That will be $7.80, in US dollars, thank you very much."

"…Can I have my string back?" Nico asked slowly.

"No you little punk you can't have your stupid string back." The man snarled.

Nico's face darkened, as Ciara's nails clicked on the table. She had to hold sway over mortals. That was just a godly given. So she tried again. This time, she stared straight into the man's eyes.

_We have paid you._

_You will give us our food._

_You'll lose 100 pounds, and feel a lot better about yourself._

Ciara leaned back off the counter, and the man blinked, his eyes slowly coming back into focus. "Thank you, here are your meals and have a nice day." He rumbled.

Nico took the tray for Cici as she slurped on her smoothie (logically, it couldn't crawl across the tray if it was in a cup) and picked a table. As Nico did his best impression of Shark Week, Ciara drank slowly, planning out her next move.

Nyx. Today she would go and talk to Thanatos' mother. Find out exactly who were his greatest enemies, and who had the means and opportunity to kill him.

Nico finished abominably fast, and as he wiped egg off his chin, Ciara couldn't help but feel slightly in awe of his teenage bottomless pit of a stomach. One smoothie, and she was full.

"Okay Nico. Here's the plan. I go talk to Nyx. You… I don't know. What do you do?" Ciara said. Nico looked slightly hurt.

"Why can't I come with you?"

"Cause she might be in space or something and you could die."

"Oh. Well, alright then. Think I might go back to Camp Halfblood for a spell. Y'know, talk to some people there. As witnesses."

Ciara almost questioned him on how that could possibly be useful, but decided to drop it.

"Anyway," Nico continued, "Camp Halfblood is pretty nearby. And I can get there no problem." Ciara nodded. "Ok then. I'll see you at Hades Cabin midnight tonight then?" Nico nodded, and Ciara closed her eyes, focussed on Nyx, and vanished.

In retrospect, suddenly disappearing in the middle of a crowded food court was not her brightest idea, as the echoes of awed gasps tingled in her ears.

When Ciara felt herself stop moving, she was in a place she'd never seen before. It was dark, navy blue all around, and the ground was pinpricked with tiny white stars. Whether she was actually standing on the sky or simply in a place like it, Ciara didn't know.

In front of her lounging on a black couch was the most breathtakingly striking woman Ciara had ever seen. Her hair was black as night and fell past her waist, and was pinned with the glowing lights of stars. Her skin was pale and flawless, and her eyes were a sharp dark blue, that bit into Ciara's skin with a knife sharp intelligence. Her dress was the same colour as the room, dark blue streaked with millions of stars and comets, and swirling with galaxies. A blue feather settled on the cushion beside her.

Ciara could barely speak.

Nyx smiled. "It is alright, my child. Night is a beautiful thing… it is perfection. Over the millennia, I have surpassed it, and now, I leave even Death speechless."

Ciara swallowed. She would not be distracted by the cool way Nyx smiled, or her perfect composure. This goddess would help her find Thanatos' killer. She had to rise above the urge to apologize for even existing near Nyx.

"That's nice. I need to ask you about Thanatos." Ciara said, raising her chin until she was standing tall, her eyes resting on Nyx's and mimicking her composure.

Nyx's eyes clouded as she sat up, running a delicate hand through her hair. "My son… my dear dear son… He is lost. Faded. That is all there is. He left my arms, and found only oblivion." Guilt rose in Ciara's chest like a wave. Perhaps she shouldn't pursue who killed Thanatos. She was only bringing his family pain…

But no. She wouldn't. She loved Thanatos more than she loved his family. And justice would be served. They all deserved the closure and security knowing his killer would bring.

"I need to ask you about him. Who were his enemies? Who had the means to kill him?" Ciara pressed. Nyx raised her head until she caught the perfect angle of light, and touched her nose lightly with a finger, presumably to stop a tear.

"Thanatos was despised by all, and loved by none. Of all the gods, he was the most true – No other god cannot be swayed, bribed, or influenced like he. Being unbiased and fair gave him many enemies – Apollo hates him with a fire that burns like the sun. The only god grateful to my son is Ares. For without Death, war loses its meaning." The flowery way that Nyx spoke made it hard to follow, but now at least Ciara had a suspect.

"I loved him. Could Apollo have killed him?"

But Nyx seized on her first statement. "You… you are the child he spoke of. The one who angered the Fates so… Death was not meant to need an heir. You may leave now. I have told you of my son, and now as the sun sets in part of the world, I must move to meet it. You also have previous engagements. Do not come to me again without warning, I need time to prepare myself… Goodbye, Ciara." Nyx? Prepare herself? If that was the woman _without_ any preparation… Wow. Ciara could barely comprehend a more perfect version. With those parting words, the room around Ciara began to dissolve until finally Ciara was standing alone in the air, several thousand feet above the Pacific Ocean.

Ciara stood there on nothing for a few moments, before her watch began to beep. Damn. Dying people have no sense of timing.

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><p><strong>Review because you are lovely. If you aren't lovely, review anyway… because no one wants to not be amazing.<strong>


	10. Whiskey

**Disclaimer: After nine chapters, I think it's now pretty obvious that I don't own Percy Jackson.**

**This is the last chapter to submit a character to be Nico's crush if you want to. Seven days from now when I update again, the competition will be closed. So c'mon, spoil me for choice here ;)**

**And I awkwardly realised that in "Assistants" way back yonder Dr. Theta's lovely link didn't work… so here it is, remove the brackets and GAZE UPON HER MASTERPIECE. **

**i1093(.)photobucket(.)com/albums/i422/Jeliezar/ChasingButterflies(.)jpg**

**Thank you for all your reviews, they keep me updating! Not like that's a threat or anything of course…**

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><p><span>Chasing Butterflies<span>

As Ciara stood in the corner of a small room she glanced around, not sure of where she was. The room was punctured with windows, and there was a man strapped to a stretcher in the centre of the room. Everything was white and sanitized. The snap of latex gloves brought her to attention. A doctor had entered, and after connecting the man to an IV, Ciara realised what was happening.

"Do you have a last statement?"

Now Ciara could see ghostly faces though one of the windows, three rows crowded with people who were peering through the glass, almost… hungrily. Their eyes gleamed in the sickly fluorescent light, as one woman bit her dark red lip. Their faces were pallid through the tinted window as they sat silently, waiting.

The prisoner strapped to the table (who was obviously her next client, Daryl Banks) gazed up at the doctor's face, which was shrouded by a hospital mask. The doctor's attention was on the IV, as he prepared the solution.

"Yeah. Yeah I do. I don't know if people deserve to die, but those fuckers sure as hell didn't deserve to live."A man in the witness rows' jaw hardened as his friend put a hand on his arm. "You deserve it you bastard." He muttered, loud enough for Ciara's heightened hearing to catch. The prisoner didn't respond. The doctor changed the IV to a lethal dose of anaesthetic, then a paralysing drug, just to be sure. The prisoner slipped away without a word.

Her watch beeped as the countdown to the extraction stopped at zero. Knowing that the soul was now ready Ciara stepped forward, invisible to the doctor. The prisoner's eyes were open, and his black eyes widened at her approach. "I thought you'd have wings…" He rattled, as Ciara was shocked to silence.

She did have wings. They were right _there_. Coming out of her back clear as day… She could even catch a glimpse of her left one out of the corner of her eye. Strange… could mortals perhaps not see them, even on the brink of death?

Without arguing with the man she slid her hand into his chest. But the soul she brought out (smoothly, as she had gotten far better with practice) was torn and frayed, and was only a fraction the size of a normal soul. Instead of shimmering silver, this soul was a dull gray.

Ciara stared at the sorry excuse for a soul in her hand. Then at Daryl. His heart was still beating. Her sharp eyes caught the tiny rise and fall of his chest.

_This doesn't make sense! _She thought. Had she perhaps left a piece inside?

Dipping her hand back into his body she rummaged around, but there was nothing. Now Ciara was starting to worry. Why wasn't he dead? She'd taken out his soul! How could he possibly be alive?

Pulling out the notebook Ciara switched it on. "Erm… Help centre?" She asked, feeling more than a little moronic.

'_The function you require does not exist.' _

"Frequently asked questions? Multiple souls? Anything!"

The notebook was silent for a moment. "Horcrux Detection, toggled off." Ciara stared dumbfounded at the device, completely lost. "Toggle on?" She said uncertainly as the machine blinked before coming up with a more detailed version of her appointment.

Daryl Banks, 37yrs 2mnths 3dys, Miami, Florida, 6.01 pm, lethal injection

Daryl Banks (SPECIAL CASE) killed three men and two women who were doctors for daughter afflicted with cancer 12yrs ago. Daughter died of drug overdose – Daryl killed them for revenge. Daryl converted to voodoo 12yrs ago in an effort to bring daughter and wife back from the dead. One horcrux.

Horcrux location: Unknown.

Ciara gaped at the screen, trying to work out what the hell a horcrux was.

But the notebook wasn't finished, as the word 'Searching' lit up the screen in a rather aesthetically pleasing light blue.

Possible locations based on personality:

Wedding ring  
>Picture of family (Tucked into back pocket)<br>Vial of Alex Winter's (victim) blood, hanging around neck.

Ciara guessed that Daryl's possessions had been returned to him so that he could die with them, as a silver wedding band was wedged onto his ring finger. Thank the gods (or thank herself, she supposed) that they hadn't been thrown out. Pulling the ring off his finger Ciara found that the metal wouldn't give in to her fingers. It must not be the horcrux then, she reasoned.

The picture gave the same result, and it was only when Ciara picked up the vial that she felt the soul within. The piece that was coiled inside the metal and glass vial was roughly the same size as the other soul piece, however Ciara was careful not to reconnect or repair them – it was not her place to clear this man's soul of misdeeds.

As Ciara tucked the two halves into her pocket and transported away from the horrible white room, she couldn't help but be grateful that Mr. Banks had a personality that was predictable enough to easily locate his horcrux.

The thought of split souls however, was upsetting to Ciara. Why was everyone so desperate to make her job harder?

Her self-pitying thoughts were interrupted by a cold robotic voice coming from the inside pocket of her jacket where she kept the notebook. "Message from Charon: Drop off all clients that have been collected, _now_." Ciara stiffened. Chiron wasn't associated with her job, was he?

Another message voiced itself a moment later. "L.A, DOA Recording Studios mate. Since you're new and apparently adorable and probably don't know where I am."

Ciara's lip curled upward, but it wasn't in a smile. Focussing on the name, Ciara opened her eyes and found herself in a grey lobby. The couches crouched in the corners like sleek black panthers. The room was full of souls, and Ciara walked up to who she assumed was Charon, a man languishing behind a glossy podium.

He was striking, with light blonde buzz cut hair and skin the colour of his polished brown shoes. He was overly dressed in Ciara's opinion, particularly since a "Hello my name is Charon!" sticker was slapped onto his lapel.

"Oh. So you aren't the centaur then?" Ciara said, looking the man up and down as he did the same to her.

"Do these look like hooves to you?" He asked snidely, gesturing at his feet. His accent was odd, but was close enough to British that it sent pangs through her. Thanatos had adopted something similar when she had been a child, before his voice evolved into something too hybrid to define.

"Do you really want me to answer that question?" Ciara said, raising her eyes to meet with his mirrored sunglasses. Charon smiled.

"I'm Charon. C – H – A – R – O – N. And I'm tired of having to point that out to every imbecile that has a rudimentary grasp of Greek Mythology that comes in here."

Ciara repeated the name, though instead of achieving "Care-on" her accent turned it into "Cahhhr-on" But Charon didn't seem to care, as long as she wasn't saying "Chair-on" anymore.

"Have you got the souls?" Charon asked, brushing at an imaginary speck on his suit.

"Right, course. Where's that bastard pocket…" Ciara muttered, before opening the pocket and drawing out a handful of souls. The moment she let them go they expanded into transparent forms of their mortal selves, and began to wander the lobby aimlessly. A few minutes later, the lobby was more crowded than ever.

Charon's eyes couldn't betray his emotion, but the upset downturn of his mouth spoke volumes. "In future, _please_ don't bring hundreds at once."

"Kay." Ciara said, hooking a finger into her jeans. Silence lapsed between them for a few moments. "Nice suit." Ciara finally said, as Charon perked up proudly. "Yes, it's Italian."

"Shame about the naff nametag," Ciara teased, before turning to leave. Charon's bewildered "It's only temporary…!" cries fell on deaf ears as she transported out of the room, and into the Underworld.

The souls drifting around the room had given her an idea.

When Ciara had visualized Alice Pemberton, she had not imagined something so… desolate. She was standing in a black field, surrounded by countless souls that moved across the grass, occasionally looking up at a stalactite sky. As Ciara moved forward the souls would part like the sea, whispering in awe at the power they felt radiating from her.

Alice Pemberton was a middle aged woman, completely unremarkable in every respect. Her hair was neatly curled and her plump body was encased in a designer dress. The makeup she must have meticulously applied the day she'd died had been smudged with tears.

Alice had been a desperate woman, holding onto her waning youth with an iron grip. With nothing else about herself worth hanging onto, she had sunk into a deeper and deeper depression with each passing year. She stared at Ciara, blue eyes empty and devoid of thought and emotion. Ciara sighed, already uncomfortable.

"Ms. Pemberton?" She asked, as the woman suddenly hitched a sob. "Pemberton, Pemberton… He was going to leave me, for a 22 year old no less… No thought of our years together, no thought of how many of his shenanigans I have tolerated over the years…? Why would he do that? I… I didn't want to ever die alone…" Ciara stared at the crying soul helplessly.

Alice's head snapped up, her translucent face creepily bare of tears, even as her cheeks crumpled with sobs. "So I did it. I sat in the garage and turned the ignition on, and when I woke up… When I woke up… I've made a mistake. I need to go back; I need to convince him to stay…" Alice's red fingernails rubbed at her eyes, as her eyes fixed on Ciara. "You have to take me back. Death, he said no, he said my time had come, but you, surely a sweet young girl like you would take pity on me?"

Ciara had come with the intention of asking Alice about Thanatos, and if anyone had attacked him when Alice was present. But obviously, she wasn't going to be much help. The soul had latched onto her arm and Ciara jerked her arm loose, with a faint air of disgust.

"No I will not help you. If you regret your decision, that's your problem not mine. You committed _suicide_. There is no one to blame but you."

Although Ciara pitied the woman for having such a seemingly horrible husband, it had been Alice's choice to stay. Alice's choice to make her life revolve around him. Alice's choice to poison herself with carbon monoxide.

Ciara left the Asphodel Fields feeling like a brick wall.

It wasn't a particularly nice feeling.

Checking her watch, Ciara sighed when she saw that she had four hours until her next appointment. Nico would be at Camp Halfblood, so she couldn't go and spend time with him. And as her immortal self, she didn't really know all that many people…

Suddenly, a thought struck her.

Days ago, when she had left school.

What about the people she'd left behind? Sal, the only boy idiotic enough to punch her on the shoulder and call her scarecrow. Meghan, so crazy that she almost bounced off the walls. Riley and Faramir (whose parents were BAD people). What did they think happened to her?

Let alone her uncle.

Then again with Uncle, neither of them would really miss the other – they had co-existed, living together without interaction.

Still, Ciara already found herself teleporting to her school. And in front of the gates, was a small slightly sodden shrine. Her photo was in the middle, and was smothered by an army of teddy bears and flowers. There were cards as well, strewn with glitter.

It was around nine in the morning and as she stared at the shrine Sal walked past, stopping when he faced the photo. Then the blonde boy suddenly started to cry, his shoulders shaking like a leaf in the wind.

Ciara reached out to touch his shoulder before checking herself.

She was a god now, and Sal wouldn't understand. Heck, he probably wouldn't even see her.

Still, it twisted her heart to see him cry. Sal never cried. Ever. Even when his funny bone snapped like a twig, he "took it like a man." A trio of jocks were approaching the gate and Sal bit his lip, wiping at his wet face and destroying the evidence. He stayed next the shrine until they were nearly passing him, then he whispered a few words and darted into the school. Sal must still be eager to keep up his tough, jokester role.

Ciara was rooted to the spot, his words dancing around her ears.

"Love you Scarecrow."

Love. Love? Ciara's lip wobbled dangerously before she turned away, the scene already being replaced by another. The dingy apartment her uncle lived in.

The light in the hallway was still flickering; even though she'd told him a million times that it needed changing.

Moving through the house, Ciara stopped at the kitchen. Glasses were piled in the sink, with barely any plates. The golden brown liquid pooled at the bottom of one gave everything away. The fridge was dotted with magnets, but one jagged newspaper clipping caught her eye.

'FREAK ACCIDENT AT HIGH SCHOOL LEAVES STUDENT DEAD'

There was a small article, and a photo of the destroyed English classroom. The photo didn't catch her eye however "Ciara Morris, 16, was found dead at the scene" did.

The article went on to say that she had strange puncture wounds on her chest and had been burned with acid and crushed by falling debris. Shock and confusion filled Ciara's mind.

The monster hadn't looked ANYTHING like her. Not by the time she got to school anyway. Sure, sometimes she was rough around the edges in the morning, but never slathering hideous monster bad.

What was going on here?

But before she could puzzle over it any further, there was a noise in the living room. Going to investigate, Ciara expected an intruder. Her uncle worked as a labourer doing the day, and spent most of his nights at the bar.

But instead of a burglar, Ciara saw her uncle slumped in an armchair, a half empty bottle of whisky in one hand and a photo of a smiling Ciara in the other. Tears glistened on his cheeks as he took another swig from the bottle. "Oh you cheeky bugger. What would your da say if he knew I'd lost you? I'm sorry I let you down. I'm so sorry, Jaysus…" Having heard enough Ciara turned away and left the apartment.

It was only when she was outside on the street that she realised that her "Freak Accident" hadn't even made the front page.

How insulting.

Ciara sat down on the stairs that led up to the apartment and put her head in her hands. Everyone she used to know thought she was dead. Why, only a week ago she'd been hanging around Sal's locker to scrounge food off him, and Riley had wrapped his arm around her waist and picked her up, and then Sal had chased the two of them down the corridor.

Only a week ago, she'd been a different person.

A 'person' if you want to get technical. Gods are a bit of a grey area when it comes to defining the term 'people.'

Sighing, Ciara pulled herself to her feet, focussed on someone else and teleported. She needed comfort, and he would give it.

To her surprise she appeared outside of a house bathed in twilight instead of beside Hypnos. Even his house seemed to be drowsy, the curtains were half drawn and the tiles on the roof were gunmetal grey and blue. However, there was nothing tired about the voices coming from inside.

"My answer is and always will be no."

"You don't have a choice in this matter."

"As the elder and senior, I actually do. And there is nothing you can do to sway me."

"Nothing? We'll see about that. You're either with or against. Choose wisely brother."

Ciara couldn't tell the voices apart, they were both too cold and snarly. A moment later the front door flung open and a god stepped out, his face secreted by the shadow of Hypnos' porch. Hypnos came and stood at the door, as the god vanished. The moment his brother was gone Hypnos sagged against the doorframe, running a hand over his face as he sighed loudly.

"Ciara." He suddenly said, instantly spotting her in the fast fading light. "What are you doing here?"

Ciara stepped forward, unsure of what to say. The words rushed out of her before she could check them. "Everyone from my old life thinks I'm dead and Alice was no help and Nyx is so daunting I never got to ask her things properly and Hades is a jerk and all this death feels like –" Instantly Hypnos was around her, his hand stroking her shoulders as Ciara fell silent.

"It's ok. Now, start from the beginning, and tell me everything."

* * *

><p>To be perfectly honest, Nico already knew that he wouldn't find any useful clues or witnesses at Camp.<p>

But as he settled at the Hades table and sipped at his cup, the feeling of normalcy overwhelmed him, wrapping him in a blanket of security. Here, he wouldn't argue constantly with his father. Here, he could be distracted from the fact that his best friend was practically on godly death row. Here, he could simply stare at a smile that turned him into a puddle, and imagine conversations he would never start.

Still, he mustn't look too much. He mustn't get caught staring, like some sort of pervert. But looking from afar felt so stalkerish! Groaning, Nico focussed on his lunch.

"Hey." That voice. That voice oh gods THAT VOICE.

Resisting the urge to stammer, Nico tried to look up and smile, but instead succeeded in looking as graceful as a rabbit caught in headlights. Finally a sound escaped his throat. "Zuhhh?"

…Oh gods.

He might as well play dead now.

* * *

><p><strong>Review and submit a character that could be<strong> **the one to turn Nico into a blabbering idiot :) **


	11. Kiss

**Disclaimer: I would like to own a world domination device. (Not to do anything with it, more just to stare at it and laugh manically every once in a while.) Percy Jackson is a world domination device. Therefore, I don't own Percy Jackson. **

**But I will still probably laugh manically anyway. Justforkix. And if you understand that reference, I love you.**

**I decided on a crush character. Technically I had a bout of indecision/mental breakdown over having to choose, so I had an epic coin tournament to decide on which one won. Regardless, I have a winner. Who is it? Well. You'll just have to read this chapter, won't you?**

**Review or I'll cry.**

* * *

><p><span>Chasing Butterflies<span>

The first thing Ciara became aware of was the carpet under her toes.

It was soft as a cloud and the same pearly white. For a few moments Ciara was perfectly content to wriggle her toes in it, marvelling at how comfortable she was. She had slept in beds that were harder than this floor…

But the carpet wasn't enough to hold her attention forever, so Ciara's pale eyes drifted over the rest of the room. Unlike the slate grey exterior of the house this room was decorated in subtle hues of blue, white and grey. There was a couch stretched out in the corner, with indents in the cushions from years of the same sleeping position. There was a low window beside it that gazed out into the black of the Underworld, and the velvet curtains whispered against the glass.

There was no sound, except for the gurgle of a slow river crawling past Hypnos' house, and Hypnos' slow breathing. Finally Ciara realized the weight of the strong arm curled around her waist, and what the warm pillow she'd been sleeping against was. Hypnos' shirt was still crinkled on his chest, where her head has been lying only a few minutes before.

The two of them had curled up in the corner furthest from the door, and as Hypnos' chest rose and fell lightly Ciara felt a sudden wave of content overcome her. There weren't many gods that would leave another god unattended in their own home…

Ciara smiled. Not a smirk, or even a grin. No, this was a slow, truly peaceful smile. For the first time in days, Ciara felt completely and totally safe.

More than anything Ciara wanted to lean back against Hypnos' chest and fall asleep again. It would be lovely to wake up to those blue eyes staring into her own, that blonde hair brushing against her cheek as he hugged her.

But Ciara's mind was already fully awake, so she simply relaxed into his body, turning over the events of the past few days over in her head, examining every angle with a critical eye for clues that she wasn't even sure were there.

Perhaps ten minutes into this deep reflection, there was a knock at the front door.

Ciara stared across the room at the offending noise as Hypnos stirred, his eyelids fluttering.

The knock was harder the second time, it lacked the cool precise taps of the former, and it sounded like the knocker was on the verge of panic. Hypnos' eyes opened and settled on Ciara for a moment, as his face stretched into a smile. "Good morning," He said softly. The arm around her waist seemed indecisive. Should it tighten or loosen?

A third, almost frenzied attack on the front door decided things.

Reluctantly letting Ciara go Hypnos pulled himself to his feet and padded to the door. The moment he inched it open, the door was slammed back against its hinges as Nyx strode into the room.

She was a completely different woman from the one Ciara had a brief audience with. The goddess standing before her had smudges below her eyes, and her glossy hair was tousled from hours of running her fingers through it.

"Hypnos –" She started, before her eyes settled on Ciara. Suddenly Nyx burst into tears. The stars in her dress - which was crinkled and falling off one shoulder- glittered and spun with every sob. "Hypnos, Moros is _missing! _His sisters tell me he has been gone for almost a day…"

Hypnos stood there for a few moments, obviously taken aback by his mother's hysteria. Hypnos glanced at the sleep watch on his wrist quickly, before awkwardly putting an arm around her shaking shoulders.

"You know what the Moirae are like Mother. He must just be taking an impromptu holiday. I know I would, if I had to spend every waking hour with those hags…" Hypnos attempted a smile, which his mother ignored.

"Moros? Holiday? You know just as well as I do that he is more of a workaholic than the rest of you all combined! Except for Thanatos, of course…" Nyx's voice took on a hollow quality, as if the goddess was a void that could never be filled.

Ciara was struck deeply by the tone. The depth of Nyx's sorrow and grief was echoed in it, as well as her panic at the thought of losing another one of her children. Ciara swallowed, the keening pain of the hollowness was eating away at the hole in her own heart.

"So, nothing's happened to him?" Nyx said quietly, eyes fixed on Hypnos' face, searching for the lie that she desperately wanted. Hypnos averted his eyes, and Nyx's hand suddenly whipped up and struck Hypnos across the face.

Hypnos staggered back, stunned to silence. "I told you to take care of him! To make sure that no one else died! And what do you do…" Nyx's breath hitched in her throat as she turned away, taking a step towards the door. As her hand closed around the knob she turned back to impale Hypnos with her betrayed gaze. "You fail me Hypnos. You fail to keep your family together, and safe." Turning quickly, Nyx left, clicking the door shut softly behind her.

Somehow, it's far worse than if she'd slammed it.

Ciara shakily stands and runs to Hypnos, but before she can reach to his face, his sharply pulls back.

"Don't." He said quietly, his eyes on the river flowing past his house in a constant rush no louder than a whisper.

"Hypnos, I –" Ciara falls silent. What can she possibly say?

Hypnos squeezes his eyes closed and breathes slowly. The red mark on his cheek is beginning to fade.

"You what? You're sorry? It's not my fault? Just, just don't…" Hypnos shakes lightly, his golden curls quiver against his temples. "You don't understand."

Ciara swallows, and turns for the door. Just as her fingers brush the silver knob, Hypnos' hand latched onto her wrist.

Her fingers released the handle, just as Hypnos spun her around and kissed her.

Blood roared through Ciara's ears as she wrapped her arms around Hypnos' neck. Coiling his arms around her waist, he crushed her against him. A thousand clichés spun around Ciara's head. Fireworks. Her heart hit the ceiling, and kept on rising anyway. Fire danced across her lips. It felt like they were in the clouds… If Hypnos' carpet had been convincing before, there was no doubt in Ciara's mind now.

When the two of grudgingly broke apart, Ciara simply stared at Hypnos. They were both struck silent.

Ciara had kissed people before. But never anything like _that._

Hypnos, who looked slightly shocked and dazed, was the first to break the silence. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

Ciara shook her head, setting whatever had been left of her ponytail free. "Don't be sorry!" She blurted, already feeling awkward as Hypnos hung his head to hide his pinkening cheeks.

"I just… I just… The thought of you walking out that door angry…" Hypnos stammered, before finally giving up and fading away.

Ciara smiled, but the smile quickly caught and blossomed into a stupid looking grin.

"I was worried you'd never come back." Hypnos suddenly said, his blue eyes looking everywhere but at her.

Ciara's heart slammed into the ceiling, only stopped by several floors and a roof of immortal resistant plaster.

"I would've come back…" Ciara said softly, and a wave of awkward tension that rose to engulf them.

"I mean… I left my jacket…" She stammered, walking over to the couch and scooping up the shiny black leather.

Hypnos muttered something like "Yes, of course," before Ciara was suddenly hit in the face with a particularly juicy steak.

Ciara screamed and reeled backwards, smacking into the door with a resounding _CRACK. _Her wings jerked in panic as she clawed at her face, searching for her assailant.

Hypnos fished the offending piece of meat before the floor as Ciara wiped the juice from her cheeks, blinking furiously. Both of them were just in time to catch the quiet words that had come with the tribute. "To Thanatos, with _love._" It was a girl's voice, although "snarl" or "hiss" would be a better description.

As Ciara gently pressed her cheek checking for swelling, Hypnos stared at the steak in his hand. It wasn't very well cooked, it was almost bloody.

"Looks like someone has a beef with you."

Ciara shot Hypnos a look of complete disgust. "Puns. I get attacked by a flying piece of cow, and you're making _puns?_"

"This is pretty rare y'know. An event like this. I think that I'm going to milk it for all it's worth."

"You bastard."

"Bull. You know you love me."

Ciara opened her mouth to retort, until that ugly curtain of sexual tension settled in the air again, breathing down their necks. Hypnos rubbed the back of his neck to ward it off.

"Well done on catching it," He said slowly.

Ciara gave up objecting.

"With my face, you mean? Aren't you lovely. Making jokes at my pain." Ciara shook her head in resignation. Some boys never grow up. Even when they have had thousands of years to do so.

Before Hypnos could reply with another idiot pun, a watch started to beep loudly. Both of them checked their wrists simultaneously.

Ciara sighed, her clock had – 22 :10 : 01 as the countdown, and that minus was… ominous.

Why had it not beeped when the countdown was at zero?

Even if she was secretly glad that it hadn't, this was going to create trouble later.

Hypnos seemed to be in the same boat. "Oh. Great. Everyone on the West Coast had a sleepless night because of us…" He said jokingly.

"Why?" Ciara asked. Although she was still irritated about his puns, she was eager to unravel a little more of the mystery of her oh-so-shiny gadgets.

"Subconsciously we must have frozen the duties we have to manually do. At least, I think that's it… It's never happened to me before." Hypnos confessed, leaving unspoken words hanging in the air.

Ciara understood. Yesterday she had talked with Hypnos for hours, before the two of them had finally fallen asleep. She'd told him all about how she and Nico were trying to find Thanatos' killer, and he had listened and sat patiently the whole time. He'd let her finish, asked her what she knew so far and listened with a furrowed brow at how she knew the time of death, and Alice Pemberton's story.

The only words he'd said on the matter had stuck in Ciara's mind. "What you're doing is dangerous Ciara. You don't want to get in over your head… I think it may be best if you just drop the matter, and simply stay on your guard. I _promise_ that you won't get hurt on my watch."

The conviction with which he'd spoken had been so convincing, but Ciara was steadfast to her goal.

She would find Thanatos' killer. And she would make them pay. Perhaps it would fill the void in Nyx, or the hole Thanatos had left in her.

Only, Ciara already knew the answer to that.

No.

No, it would not bring him back. It wouldn't make the pain go away. But it would be justice, and that was what Thanatos deserved.

"Do you think… that whoever killed Thanatos made Moros disappear?" Ciara said suddenly. Hypnos stared at her, wheels clicking in his head.

"It's possible." He said slowly, "But if it's so that makes the killer even more dangerous. Moros is our – I mean, my, older brother. He seconds only Thanatos and possibly the Moirae in power. If someone killed him, then they mean business."

Ciara's mind flicked back to the night before. Was it possible that it had been Moros who had been arguing with Hypnos? Could that mean… No. She had been with Hypnos the entire time that Moros had been missing. It couldn't have been Moros who visited last night.

Part of her was ashamed. How could she suspect Hypnos, even for a moment? He was so kind, so good… And his brother's death had hit him hard. That was blindingly obvious. The only thing keeping him from breaking down as Nyx had done was his pride.

"How many siblings do you have?" Ciara said, just to ease her mind.

"Many. The oldest are my half siblings Aether and Hemera. After them from oldest to youngest there are Momus, Moros, me, the Oneroi, the Hesperides, the Keres and the Moirae, Nemesis, Apate, Philotes, Geras, and Eris."

Ciara wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or upset. He had so many brothers; there was no way to tell if he's been speaking with an older one or a younger one!

Ciara decided to let it go. It was probably a superficial quarrel between siblings anyway. It meant nothing.

Hypnos seemed to read her mind. "Don't worry. Moros is a workaholic, but he and the Moirae fight constantly. He will just want a breather. Trust me." His easy smile quelled any tenacious fears Ciara had, and she smiled back, trusting him.

"Come on, you shouldn't keeping your clients waiting for more than 24 hours, it'd be rude." Hypnos said, guiding Ciara to the door even though she was less than a metre away.

Hypnos opened the door for them to step out, just as a man standing outside raised his hand to knock.

He was a curious looking god, tall and dressed in a long black coat. His features shifted as Ciara tried to look at his face, as if she was looking at him through glass or a puddle of water. His blue eyes regarded her coolly.

"We missed you in San Francisco brother." The light from within the house shone and caught the god's grey hair. He was still staring at Ciara, with wry amusement.

"Morpheus. Sorry, but I was preoccupied." Hypnos was not as tall as Morpheus, but it was obvious which held more power of the two. Hypnos' eyes bored into Morpheus until finally Morpheus relented and looked away.

"I see that. _Another _one Hypnos? Honestly. No one can keep your attention. Although…" Morpheus concentrated on Ciara's face for a moment.

"Oh no. You didn't Hypnos."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Hypnos forced out through gritted teeth.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. You shouldn't have done this. Especially since she's also his replacement. What does that make her, our new sister? Or niece, I can't really tell…"

Ciara did not enjoy being talked about in this matter. "I _am _standing here you know." She said quietly. Morpheus smiled.

"Of course you are. How could I forget such a pretty face? You're going to regret choosing it you know. "

"I didn't choose it," Ciara said flatly. Her green gaze was practically poisonous.

"Course you didn't. Anyway, I have to go. Try to show up tonight Hypnos. We all know what happens to people who test my patience."

Hypnos opened his mouth to reprimand his overly confident little brother, but Morpheus was already gone. Hypnos muttered something in Greek under his breath, before turning to Ciara. "Ignore him. He's angry because he stupidly believed that his engagements are important to me. I'll see you later, alright?" Hypnos stayed until Ciara gave him a nod, and then vanished.

Ciara dug out her notebook and checked the location of her well overdue appointment, before closing her eyes and teleporting there.

Still, Morpheus' words echoed in her mind.

_Another one?_

* * *

><p>Lunch had just finished, and Nico could barely contain his excitement.<p>

Though excitement wasn't quite the right word. Fear? Apphrensiveness? Nervousness? Those were slightly closer, but sounded terrible.

Though there was a definite sense of euphoria as well. Throughout yesterday and today, he'd replayed the conversation in his mind.

"_Hey."_

…

"_I've seen you practicing in the arena, you're really good."_

…

"_It took me a while to work up the courage to ask this, haha but… I don't suppose…"_

_That voice, the tinge of bashfulness… It was just as well that Nico had been sitting down, because his knees had turned to jelly. _

"_I'd love to train with you sometime" Nico had stammered. The smile had flashed, and Nico had been so grateful that he wasn't the type to blush, or his pallid skin would have turned crimson._

"_Really? How about tomorrow after lunch then…"_

_Nico had nodded a little too vigorously. He wanted to say something more, but Chiron had spotted them so his crush scuttled back to the table they should've been sitting at._

_Just think_, Nico thought. In five minutes…

Oh, he could barely think, let alone imagine!

He was nearing the arena now, could see those scuffed converse that had walked past him hundreds of times. He'd always thought that their owner had never thrown him a second glance but… No. He really shouldn't read into this. It _was_ just practice after all.

Though Nico already hoped that it wasn't, and was very close to convincing himself that maybe, just maybe, that this would turn into something more.

However, before Nico reached the arena, a hand suddenly grabbed at his sleeve. A tall man stood there, his face concealed by a cloak.

"Come with me. We need to talk."

Nico pulled himself free and tried to keep walking. "C'mon _please._ Just ten minutes…!"

The man shook his head.

"Sorry lover boy. I don't have time to entertain you, and if you don't listen to what I have to say, you and your little friend Cici are going to wind up dead."

Nico froze, saw that the man was completely serious, and reluctantly followed the man back towards Hades Cabin.

_Sorry._ Nico mouthed towards the arena, his heart twisting in his chest.

His one chance at having that smile, and a creepy guy in a cloak had ruined it.

_Story of my life,_ he thought.

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><p><strong>In the immortal words of the internet…. TROLOLOLOLOLOLOL! Thought you'd get to know who the crush is didn't ya? <strong>

**Review, or I'll put the entirety of the next chapter into iambic pentameter. And I really don't want to do that.**


	12. Murder Deux

**Disclaimer: If I owned Percy Jackson, I highly doubt that enough people would approve it suitable for pretty much all ages… ;)**

**THANK YOU READYSETSTOP FOR REVIEWING I WAS TERRIFIED THAT I'D HAVE TO MAKE GOOD ON MY WORD.**

**Ok, a couple of chapters ago I decided that I should start using fake clues to mislead y'all. I also decided that it would be nice to let you know. Am I using them already? Well. That's for you to decide, based on how honourable you think I am…**

**P.S You're all supposed to think with complete conviction that I am lovely and would never ever in a bazillion years do that :D**

**Please review, they give me warm fuzzies ^_^**

Chasing Butterflies

The man moved unusually fast over the stubborn patches of grass that dotted the trampled earth between cabins. Although his feet barely touched the ground and Nico was struggling to keep up, the man looked as if he was on a slow Sunday stroll, with his hands clasped behind his back in an oddly formal gesture.

Nico's sharp eyes caught a glimpse of an angry red mark on the man's left wrist before his sleeve dropped down to cover it. When the Hades Cabin was in sight, the man (although Nico was already certain that this "man" was actually a god) suddenly stopped and spun around, causing Nico to skid to a halt on the dusty earth.

"On second thought, it's best if we don't speak in your cabin, halfing." The god's tone was nonchalant, but there was a gleam in his ice white eyes. _Not safe to talk here. We are being watched._ Nico couldn't tell if it was the god's unsettling cold eyes that told him this, or if the god had projected a voice into his head. Either way, he still bristled at being called "Halfling."

The god turned and started walking towards the woods, not bothering to look over his shoulder to see if Nico was following. Nico was struck at how much this reminded him of his own father – both had realized that it was simply _unthinkable_ that everyone else would not follow them around to hang upon their every word.

Muttering under his breath, Nico did not see the glint of sunlight reflecting off blonde hair just visible from behind one of the cabins about ten yards away. The girl the hair was attached to watched silently as Nico grudgingly started to run after the god, her mouth twisted into an indecisive grimace. She waited for a few moments to make sure that Nico wouldn't do something paranoid like glance back over his shoulder, before brushing the bronze dagger at her waist with trembling fingertips and scuttling after them.

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><p>Hurting Nico was of course out of the question.<p>

She had always scorned the Aphrodite girls for fawning over him, and had spent hours at night listing the way in which they were wrong about his supposed hotness.

His skin was too pallid, which made him look as though he was dying of cancer. His hair was too long, it made him look stupid. His eyes were too dark, they looked inhuman against his pale skin. He only wore black, that surely made him emo. He wore skinny jeans, therefore he had to either be cutting off blood supply or poorly endowed.

Still, even as she'd gazed at the stars with her arms crossed, coming up with a million things that were wrong about Nico Di Angelo, a little voice in her head came up with irritatingly valid arguments.

His skin was too pallid, but it only turned him into a creature of contrasting blacks and whites, something that made even the most remotely artistic camper itch for a pencil and paper. His hair suited him, it was just long enough to run fingers through it, without hindering him in battle. His eyes were too dark, because they had the strangest quality of drawing you in and holding you there in his gaze forever, like two pools of ink. He wore black because even after four years, he still mourned the loss of his family. And as for the skinny jeans… well. The little voice had never been able to justify _that _one.

In the case of the god Nico was following, there were no such sentimental holdbacks. She would carry out her godly parent's bidding, because that was what she was expected to do.

She didn't know _why_ she had been ordered to kill him. Her parent had come to her in a dream, and a voice sweet as honey that buzzed with the hidden power of a thousand bees had whispered in her ear that she must watch Nico Di Angelo carefully and godly visitors even more so. Next she'd been shown a face. It wasn't a handsome face, the nose was too crooked, the skin too pale from aeons without sunlight. This was the face of the god she had to kill.

For a moment a thought wavered in the girl's mind, a shaky voice that asked if she really had to do this, kill someone in cold blood. If she wanted to even. For a moment the girl paused in her pursuit, her brow furrowed as she sucked in a tortured breath. Could she kill this god?

The little voice whispered no.

However another voice rose to meet it, reminding her of her debt to her godly parent. About how blood is thicker than water, how family must come first. Her godly parent wouldn't have asked without reason.

The snap of twigs against Nico's sneakers was beginning to fade away into the sounds of the forest, and the girl realised with a panicked pang that if she didn't hurry up, she was going to lose them.

For one agonising second, she played with the idea of returning to her cabin and curling up under the blankets, and pretend that she'd overslept and missed the god's visit.

But then fear kicked in. Fear of what would happen to her if she lied, if she didn't follow orders. The girl gripped the dagger in her left hand and spun it between her fingers. Then she started to run again.

How horrible that it wasn't love that spurred her on, but simply cold hard fear.

* * *

><p>The two of them had been walking (or in Nico's case, jogging) for about ten minutes before the god suddenly stopped. Nico had to skid to a stop to avoid running into him. The god watched Nico's windmilling arms with deep distaste before he cleared his throat.<p>

"It is a good thing that you stopped halfling. One does not simply walk into Moros."1

Nico muttered in Italian under his breath, and Moros pretended not to understand it.

"Do you know why I brought you out here?" Moros prompted, when Nico started to stare at the ground as if it was the most fascinating undergrowth he'd ever seen.

It was actually quite nice undergrowth. The browned leaves were soft under Nico's sneakers, and were dappled caramel and chocolate brown. Near Nico's left toe was a flash of mint green, as a small seedling struggled out of the castoff leaves of its parents. The colour reminded Nico of Ciara's eyes.

Finally Nico pulled his eyes off a small cluster of red toadstools gathered around a nearby stump and settled his gaze on Moros. "That was one of the lamest Lord of the Rings references I've ever heard."

Confusion fluttered in Moros' glacier gaze. "What? No, I meant that I brought you out here to warn you."

Now Nico was lost. "What? That wasn't what I was talking about…"

Moros waved a long fingered hand impatiently.

"Enough. Your friend Ciara is in great danger." Moros watched Nico expectantly, searching the boy's face for shock or surprise. When Nico tried to politely respond that he already knew, Moros seemed genuinely disappointed.

"Urgh. The only way to surprise a mortal these days is to drop an ice cream truck on it. So I suppose you've already guessed that Thanatos' death was not fueled by vengeful motives."

Nico's head snapped up. No, he had not known that. In fact Nico was pretty sure that they didn't know _anything_ about Thanatos' murder at all. Of course Ciara had worked out the time of death, but that seemed hardly important to Nico. Nico was a motive kind of man.

Moros read Nico's face like a book, and perked up considerably.

"You must also already know that his death wasn't exactly planned." Nico now began to get suspicious. "How do you know all this?" Nico asked, subconsciously taking a step back. A twig snapped loudly under his foot and Moros kindly chose to ignore it, passing it off as foolish mortal behaviour.

"I am the god of Doom, halfing. If a death is planned, I'm going to know. Why, right now a rather angry boyfriend in Miami is buying the sushi knife he plans to kill his cheating lover with. Little does he know that he is in fact the affair, and her husband has already filed for divorce after she confronted him and told him that she is in love with someone else. It's the little dramas that make my job worth it." Moros smiled and gazed off into the distance,as if he could see girls getting dismembered in the trees only a few yards away. Nico deliberately looked in the other direction.

He knew better than to get outraged and question the god as to how he could stand by and allow people to be murdered, and get a sick enjoyment from it. Gods don't know what it is to be human, what it is to feel human emotion. They can pretend to, but in the end they end up watching history unfold below them.

_All the world's a stage..._

"Are you even listening to me halfling?" Moros voice was tinged with annoyance, as on long fingered hand shot out and grabbed Nico by the throat. The fact that Nico was standing two metres away from Moros only added to the effect.

"_A life_ is on the line, and you're daydreaming? What is wrong with you?" Moros snarled. Nico's lips moved to angrily rebut this, but no sound came out. Moros lifted Nico off his feet and pulled him forward until they were eye to eye. His grip relaxed just enough to allow Nico to finally respond.

"I wasn't under the impression that lives were of particular importance to you," Nico spat. Somewhere in his mind a voice was screaming at him that antagonising a god was not going to end well, but Nico was too angry to ignore it. Years of bottled up rage were bubbling to the surface and Moros was just unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end. But to Nico's surprise, the hand around his neck suddenly let go and Nico dropped to the ground, biting his lip on impact as the ground shock traveled up his leg.

"Your friend is different. Not only is she a god now but... I repay my debts. So shut up and listen to what I have to say," Moros paused for a moment as Nico rolled onto his knees and coughed loudly. When Nico didn't interrupt, Moros continued.

"The only reason that she isn't dead is because someone else poses more of a risk. Listen, the house that she lives at? She isn't safe there. She needs to find somewhere else and lie low and hide. If she gets competent at her job quick and complies without argument, maybe she'll be allowed to live. And this "finding the killer" business of hers? That needs to stop, because she won't like the consequences if she keeps digging. The less she knows, the safer she is. As long as she isn't a threat, she has a chance of survival."

Nico brushed leaves off his black jeans, mumbling curses when the wet leave smeared ugly brown marks onto the fabric.

"Ciara isn't going to do that, she's hellbent on getting justice."

"Well halfling, _make_ her stop. Find the power to convince her to drop the case. I don't want her to end up de-"

The air next to Nico's cheek thrummed as a streak of bronze flew past and embedded itself in Moro's chest. The god staggered backwards and dropped to his knees, pawing at his chest. When his fingers brushed the dagger's hilt his eyes squeezed shut.

Golden ichor spilled down his shirt as a thin trail started to leak from the right corner of Moros' mouth, catching in the lines of his face. Nico stumbled forward and knelt by Moros' side.

"Moros, Moros!" Nico shook his shoulders frantically. The god sucked in a shaky breath.

"Hypnos..." He whispered, ice blue eyes slowly flicking from side to side. The trees above seemed to tremble with Moros' every breath. A twig snapped a few yards away and Nico glared into the forest, his hand feeling for the cool stygian iron resting at his side. Ragged footsteps faded into the distance ut befor Nico could give chase, Moros hand latched onto his wrist, squeezing the skin white.

"Hypnos... You can't t..." Moros was whispering between shalolow pants now, but his grip was still just as tight on Nico's wrist, his long fingernails biting small crescents into the skin.

"...Keep her safe." Moros' eyes were fixed on Nico's now, awaiting an answer. Nico nodded, his head jerking awkwardly like a puppets. For a lingering second Moros seemed unhappy with this response, until suddenly his pale eyes went blank, and his chest fell for the last time. Nico crouched by the god's body, staring at the ichor pooling onto the damp, settled leaves. It seemed odd that even though Moros was dead, blood was still running in his veins.

The small green seedling was peeping out between Moros' index finger (Nico had always thought of it as the pointer) and thumb, and tenderly Nico folded the god's arms onto his chest and closed his unseeing eyes. _There, now he could be sleeping,_ he thought to himself.

Nico wasn't sure why he'd done it. It would probably raise hell later when they found fingerprints on the body.

Then again, who was 'they?' Did the gods even care about Moros? Nico was almost sure that the Olympians wouldn't. Moros wasn't one of them he ran things from behind the scenes, out of the immortal spotlight. Would anyone really notice his absence?

Fingerprints also seemed remarkably... well, mundane. What use did the gods have for mortal tactics? They were immortal, they weren't supposed to die. But that hadn't stopped Thanatos and Moros' killer. Nico was convinced that they were one and the same. Who else had motive?

Nico haunted the clearing for a few more minutes, waiting for someone to show up, or for Moros to suddenly spring to his feet and do a jig, proving that gods are in fact immortal as advertised.

But neither thing happened so Nico left, weaving back through the trees with his ears pricked for any indication that the murderer was still in the area. But the woods were silent. Completely silent, there were no birds calling in the branches, no dryads giggling in the distance. Complete silence.

Nico shivered and picked up the pace. By the time he reached the cabins Nico realised that the dagger was still embedded in Moros' chest. Instantly his palm rushed up to greet his face with a resounding smack.

A dagger that could kill gods, and he'd just _left _it there? How could he be so stupid?

Nico raced back to the clearing, his heart hammering in his throat. The dagger was already gone. A strangled scream bubbled out of Nico's throat as he slammed his fist into a tree, earning an angry hiss from the residing dryad. The killer had gotten back there first. They must have waited for him to leave, they'd been standing mere metres away the whole time...

For a few minutes Nico stood there, torn between tearing the clearing apart looking for a killer that would be long gone and standing there berating himself.

Once he realized that he'd already chosen the latter Nico trudged back to camp. His hands were aggressively shoved into his pockets and a hapless Aphrodite camper that tried to approach him was fixed with such an angry glare that tears gathered in her eyes.

When Nico planted himself on the stairs of Hades cabin he fished a drachma from his jacket pocket ad flipped it over in his palm, staring at the printed gold. He should probably send Ciara an IM.

There was a green hose on the side of the Big House installed for this very purpose, so Nico made his way over and glared at anyone who looked as if they might potentially approach him.

It took Nico a few frustrating minutes of tugging at the hose handle to get the water running, but finally Ciara's confused face was wavering in the somewhat steady spray of water.

"Nico?" She asked, blinking wildly. Nico wouldn't tell her this, but it looked adorable.

"Hey Cici. Listen, we need to stop this, you're only going to get hurt." Ciara's face hardened as her jaw locked into 'angry and stubborn mode.'

"What? No Nico I have to do this -"

"Moros warned me and now he's dead. You'll be the same if you don't stop! And you need to stay away from Hypnos too." Nico's tone was far too sharp, but Ciara's narrowed eyes weren't helping.

"Why. Why should I stay away from him? He's helping me Nico! He would never hurt me!"

"I think he's the killer." Nico said flatly.

Ciara's face was white, even her lips were pressed so tightly together that the blood had been bleached from them.

"How dare you. You don't know anything, you... you... You stupid mortal!" Ciara yelled, tears pricking at her eyes. Nico's teeth ground in his skull.

"You know what, _Cici?_ Go die. I don't even care. NO ONE DOES. Because you're a cheap replacement if you're this fucking blind." He snarled.

"I'm the cheap replacement? Well, better than being the shoddy second best to a ghost, isn't it?" Ciara shot back. The iris message suddenly ran out, leaving both sides fighting back tears. Nico threw the hose at the house with all his strength and stormed back to his cabin, not even bothering to choke out words to his crush as he flew by, his face pale and drawn.

Jacob ghosted after him and stood for a few minutes poised to knock on the Hades cabin door, but then thought better of it and drifted back to the arena.

They could practice another time.

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><p><strong>What did you think? Good, terrible? Review and let me know. And also I am so sorry for the late update, I'm on holiday so it's been difficult to write y'know? But when I get home in a week or so, I'll update everyday for a week :D Sound fair? I hope it does...<strong>


	13. Fate

**Disclaimer: My chapter names aren't nearly as cool as Rick Riordan's. Therefore I'm not him, and don't own Percy Jackson. /3**

**Thank you so such for all your reviews! I almost died of happiness!**

**I forgot to say this in the other chapter, but I had wanted to write that line for about 10 chapters. IT'S THE WHOLE REASON I USED MOROS…! **

**I'm a cool one I know.**

**Any whooo, after a few days of umming and ahhing, let the week of daily updates begin. And who knows, enough reviews and I might even update twice in one day. –hinty hinty hint-**

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><p><span>Chasing Butterflies<span>

As Nico's face flickered and faded back into thin air, Ciara's jaw locked into place. She refused to let her lips quiver, and totally rebuffed the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

How dare he.

How dare he accuse Hypnos?

Nico knew nothing about him! They hadn't even met! How could Nico be so… so…

"AAAARGH!" Ciara screamed, and though she was standing on a crowded city street, not a single person flinched. Ciara still bit down on the sound anyway, rubbing at her pale eyes. Could gods cry?

Not that she was about to.

She never cried. Not Ciara, the girl made of stone. All those carefully formulated defences had lasted _years,_ and now a few days of being immortal and she was being jerked around by her feelings left and right.

Thanatos had never shown any signs of being trapped on a knuckle whitening emotional roller coaster. In fact, besides the constant comfort of his affection, Thanatos had never seemed to show anything except a quiet resignation to his work.

Thanatos had always seemed like he'd switched off that part of his mind, as if he couldn't afford to feel anything. Ciara knew deep down that she should be doing the same.

If she didn't, if she continued to feel guilt or sadness every time her hand closed around the silvery filaments of someone's soul, she was going to go mad.

But of course, she'd known all about the crushing weight of guilt since… since a very long time ago. Ciara had been running from guilt for years and years, and before she'd looked into that mirror and realized the change that had taken place she'd almost outrun it.

But now, with the daunting prospect of forever stretched out in front of her, the shame had crashed down around her and whispered in her ear that '_now you can never forget. Now, you're going to remember what you've done forever.'_

Ciara shivered in the sticky city heat. The tall grey buildings suddenly seemed as though they were breathing down her neck, the winking lights in languages she somehow understood scratched at her eyes.

Gulping down breaths she fished the notebook from her pocket, opening its case to reveal the technology's black, shiny surface. Across from her in a shop window was the mortal imitation, the iPad. But although the two looked undoubtedly similar, Ciara was positive that her notebook was far superior.

After all, it shrunk to fit in her pockets and could talk in a slightly disturbing Scottish accent. As appointments had gone by, the notebook had decided that if it sounded Scottish, it would sound more familiar to Ciara's Irish ears. Ciara had gritted her teeth and accepted the notebook's terrible imitation.

The top appointment on the list lit up the screen almost immediately.

Kaede Kooriyama, 23yrs 1mnths 5dys, Rome, Italy, 7.36 pm, peanut allergy reaction

Ciara only had to sift through the crowds for a second before she recognized her next client out of the corner of her eye. Recognized was a strange choice of words, she'd never met Kaede and knew almost nothing about her. It was more of an instinctive knowledge, she saw a flash of a navy blue sweater and just knew.

The crowd parted for Ciara as she walked towards a brightly blinking cafe, where Kaede was sitting across from a tall man and smiling shyly at him. Their hands were inches away on top of the table, and Ciara felt a pang as his fingers brushed over hers.

She already knew how Kaede was going to die.

This was her third date with this man, and allergies hadn't exactly come up in conversation. When their two plates of food arrive, her boyfriend will twirl some pasta around his fork and feed it to Kaede, interrupting her hesitant story of why she decided to uproot herself and move to Italy.

Little would he know that the completely familiar but still tantalizingly unrecognized taste in the pasta would be a small spoon of peanuts. And of course, how could he possibly know that Kaede, in her rush to get ready for her date (she'd spent forty minutes fussing in front of the mirror before realising that she was already late) had left her allergy kit at home.

As the out of breath waiter set their plates down on the table, Ciara wafted to the door of the café, unable to look as Kaede's quiet giggle pierced through the constant mumble of the café.

Her boyfriend twirled the pasta around his fork, eyes intent on Kaede as she brushed a black lock of hair behind her ear.

"Kaede, this is delicious, you have to try this –" Not stopping to revel in the fact that she could now understand _Italian_ (it had always been a dream of Ciara's) Ciara stepped forward, ramming herself into the table and spilling the man's plate all over his crisp blue shirt.

"Perdonami," Ciara said breathlessly, as the man jerked to his feet, a storm cloud brewing between his eyebrows.

But this wouldn't be enough, the man could order another dish, or get close to Kaede with his now deadly clothing.

Boldly stepping forward, Ciara swiped a finger against his shirt.

"Mmm. Peanuts in the pasta, what a genius idea!" She babbled in fast Italian and Kaede, who was struggling to catch every word, leapt to her feet.

"Alonso, I am allergic to peanuts!" Alonso's eyes widened as he stepped towards Ciara

"Grazie, grazie mille! I was about to let her try my dish… You saved her life!" Suddenly Ciara was swept into a hug by the man, and when they parted the two of them looked as though they'd walked out of a police scene.

Kaede, who was struggling to hide her jealousy at the hug, looked as if she wanted to hug Ciara as well, but after looking at Ciara and the peanut pasta strewn all over her, she simply smiled and looked as if she was on the verge of tears.

"I didn't have my epi pen… You are the best waitress I've ever met, I cannot thank you enough," Kaede said breathlessly, her Japanese accent heavily colouring the words. Ciara couldn't help but look down at herself, she wasn't exactly dressed as a waitress, and her wings weren't exactly normal…

Regardless, Ciara brushed her hair from her face and stepped back as the waiter pushed past her and started mopping at the red splattered floor, muttering angrily under his breath.

"Di niente. I'm just happy you're alright." With that Ciara excused herself and left the café. The moment she was out in the street she pulled out her notebook. The notebook was flashing red as a the strange interpretation of Scottish spilled from the device.

"First priority appointment."

"With who?" Ciara asked, grateful that she seemed to not exist to the pushy mortals around her. Talking to technology in public had always struck her as slightly deranged.

"Clotho. She wishes to speak with ye within the next thirty seconds."

"Oh. Well, alright then."

Ciara walked over to a particularly reflective surface to fix her hair, just as the notebook started a grating countdown.

"10…"

"Shut up, I want to look presentable."

"9…"

Ciara's wings twitched in annoyance. The feathers brushed a passing man on the shoulder and he shivered in the evening heat.

"8…"

"If you aren't quiet I swear to god I'll crack your screen or something."

"7… Are you swearing to yourself?"

"I bet Hypnos's notebook isn't nearly as annoying as you are."

"6… It's worse,"

Ciara brushed a few stray hairs from her forehead, stared at the glass for a moment then brushed them back.

"5… You're going to be late Thanatos."

The name shocked Ciara so much that she didn't even react as the notebook callously continued its countdown.

"0."

The number rattled in her ears for a moment before Ciara shook her head violently to clear it. The notebook had just made a mistake, that was all it was. Looking back into the mirror, Ciara growled when she saw that her hair was now back to square one.

Brilliant.

The tinny Scottish voice lit up again from her pocket.

"Clotho says get here now, or she'll organize an accident for Nico."

His name sent a fresh wave of fury through Ciara. An accident? Who cares? After all, due to him SHE was a total accident.

"She'll organize an accident for your uncle AND Nico."

The thought of her uncle quietly weeping in his apartment spurred Ciara to close her eyes and focus. Clotho. Clotho. Clotho.

Ciara apparated into a dark, torchlit room hewn from blood red stone. There was a clacking sound coming from one corner, but when Ciara turned there was nothing there except for a rickety stool.

"You are one minutes and 53 seconds late."

Ciara spun to face the voice and almost smacked into a young woman in a wine coloured dress. Her wide black eyes glittered with malice as her mouth twisted into a smile.

"Stupid girl, making us wait. You have already crossed us once –" She bared her teeth as her lank white hair hung around her face like tangled tentacles.

"Sister. That is enough…" An ancient voice cut through the space between Ciara and Clotho like a knife and Clotho slid past Ciara and sat on the stool, playing with some silvery thread with deceivingly dexterous fingers.

The colour of the thread was immediately familiar to Ciara. Turning away, Ciara stared an ancient woman reclining in a wooden chair like an Egyptian queen. This woman had hair as white as Clothos, but hers was wispy and wafted down to past her waist, eerily surrounding the wizened woman like a halo.

Her black eyes pinned Ciara to the spot, and Ciara suddenly felt a huge pressure bearing down on her shoulders, trying to force her knees to buckle to the floor.

Ciara's eyes had been unable to meet the old woman's, but suddenly Ciara felt the strength to raise her pale eyes to fix onto the woman's face. Her chin tilted upward into its familiar stubborn angle, as Ciara pulled her shoulders back and forced herself to stand straight.

"I am Death. And I will bow to no one."

The words sounded impressive as they rang out as the cool silence of the room, even though Ciara privately knew that Hades would completely disagree.

The old woman's lips wrinkled into a smile.

"I see. I see that you inherited your predecessor's spine. How unfortunate for him that he developed it too late – whereas your tragedy is that yours developed too early.

"Do you know why you're here?"

Ciara shook her head, and a middle aged woman muttered from behind Ciara, "Ignorant child. Only have to break the pattern once…"

The oldest woman silenced the middle aged one with a hard look. "Lachesis! She was not the cause, you know that. Regardless… by saving that mortal, you have started to slip on a dangerous slope."

Ciara's jaw hardened. So that was it. Something about how people need to die, blah blah blah…

"Do you realise the magnitude of what you've done?" The old woman's voice was suddenly sharp, pulling Ciara to attention.

"Yes. She won't die a horrible death, and Alonso won't be haunted by his innocent mistake."

The three sisters hissed in annoyance. It was slightly disturbing that it was perfectly in unison – although frankly the fact that they were all sisters when the oldest could easily have been the Clotho's great grandmother was overshadowing their synced displeasure.

"Stupid girl! You have disrupted our pattern. Alonso would have married three years later, and had a son. Thanks to you, we have to rewrite a section of the pattern! You have caused irreparable damage, and now you must be punished."

Ciara resisted the urge to gulp. Punish her how?

"Perhaps the same punishment as Thanatos, Atropos?" Lachesis giggled, her blue eyes blinking wildly. Her older sister grinned.

"No sister, something that clever would take a long time to reweave. Your punishment… Huehuehue, Girl, your punishment will be to find out what it is you seek to know." Atropos said, cackling in the torchlight. Clotho, who had spun a long spool of silvery thread looked up from her work.

"You mean… Sister, couldn't that affect other plans?" Clotho stuttered, but Atropos dismissed her fears with a flick of the wrist. The rags she was dressed in whirled wildly as her arm snapped back to her side.

"You may go now Ciara Morris. And do not cross us again, or your next punishment will not be so lenient."

Ciara was quick to leave the blood coloured room, and teleported to her living room. Sinking onto an inviting couch, Ciara closed her eyes and sighed.

She was going to find out who had killed Thanatos. A Fates guarantee (Atropos, Clotho and Lachesis had to be the Fates, who else could they possibly be?" meant it was good as done.

So why wasn't she happy?

There was a knock at the door and grudgingly Ciara got to her feet and walked over to the door, pulling it open onto someone she hadn't expected.

* * *

><p>Nico lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.<p>

Hades Cabin was the perfect retreat for the emotionally bruised. Everything was black, and matched his _soul._

All he'd done was warn her away from a murderer.

And what had he gotten in return? Insults aimed directly at his weakest point.

Insults derived from what he'd told her in confidence, on that first night when they'd stayed up chatting until dawn finally worked up the nerve to peek through the dusty window.

Pulling his silky pillow over his head, Nico squeezed his eyes shut.

He didn't have many friends here at Camp. Admirers yes, but they just looked at him, and occasionally dared one of their friends to run up to him and say something idiotic or complimenting.

In fact, when he really thought about it, Nico didn't really have any friends at all. Period.

Ghosts are rather antisocial when it comes down to it. Even more so than Nico himself.

So this fight was going to take its toll.

The image of her angry taut face played itself over and over in his head, how _betrayed_ she had looked when he's warned her about Hypnos…

When it really came down to it, the insults weren't even the worst part.

It was the fact that to Ciara, he wasn't nearly as important to her as she was to him.

A small part of him had guessed this, Ciara seemed to be the type of girl that drew people close and held them there. She could laugh and smile so easily, even if she tried to hide it with a difficult and sarcastic exterior.

Ciara was like toast. She tried to be hard and crunchy but her soft, fluffy insides made everyone automatically love her anyway.

Nico di Angelo had no such lovable qualities.

In fact, if it wasn't for his striking looks and not-so-average body, he would have been heartlessly classed as a weirdo and would have been dumped on the edge of society, an outsider looking in.

No, instead Nico was doomed to be placed on a pedestal, looking down on a world that secretly he very much wanted to join. Ciara had almost succeeded in dragging him down to her level.

Almost.

She had almost turned him back into that charismatic kid he'd once been, before Bianca. But no, she had to go and let him know that when it came to one barely known hot god, he was just the pompous git that needed to be rebuffed for daring to think anything negative. Her instant revenge had shown her true feelings towards him.

Nico sighed, but the breath hitched in his throat and hot tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

Goddammit. He was _not_ going to cry.

Ciara wouldn't be crying.

No, Ciara would run to Hypnos and bury herself into his arms. She'd lie there passively as his hands slid up to circle her neck. Her lovesick eyes would stare into his as his grip tightened and jerked upwards, snapping her neck like a twig. She'd die happy, because Hypnos was just _perfect._

There was a quiet knock at his door and Nico lay completely still, barely even breathing. A shadow danced in his window, and there was another, harder knock.

"Nico?"

It was him. It was Jacob. Nico curled into a ball, warding away Jacob's quiet, obviously concerned voice. He couldn't see Jacob like this. He couldn't burden Jacob with his demons.

Finally after a few agonising moments Jacob gave up and walked away. Nico's eyes flicked to a tortured looking alarm clock.

7:00.

He'd been wallowing for hours. But stubborn Nico was not about to stop.

Why didn't Cici believe him?

Why couldn't she care about him as much as he cared about her?

Unrequited friendship. How does that even work? His feelings were so messed up, he was reaching into uncharted emotionally screwed up waters.

But his feelings still existed, didn't they.

And even though she'd taken his fragile trust and stamped on it, he was going to care about her anyway.

She might write him off and hate him, but he was going to protect her from Hypnos and anyone else who even _dreamt_ of hurting her.

And he'd start by finding out who in Camp Halfblood was best at throwing daggers.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviewwwwwwwwwww cause I know you're all lovely people who are considerate about that sort of thing :D<strong>


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